Mission: Impossible – Hawkeye
by Sandylee007
Summary: HALF-CROSSOVER WITH MISSION IMPOSSIBLE, NO CHARACTERS SANS BRANDT FROM THERE USED When Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, is poisoned several secrets come out. Why does someone want to kill him? And why does this person know him as William Brandt? It's a race against time to get the necessary answers before the Hawk's hourglass runs empty. TAKES PLACE AFTER AoU RATING MAY RISE TO M
1. Prologue - Your Mission

A/N: SO… The headcanon of Barton and Brandt being the same person has been bugging me for AGES. (Seriously! It's not just the same actor. They have the same style and sense of humor, and even their surnames sound a bit alike.) Then I received a couple of requests. Aaaaaaaand… Here we are. (grins sheepishly)

 **This isn't a pure blooded crossover.** While this DOES borrow Brandt and IMF as names I have a feeling that Ethan Hunt and co won't be appearing. The background story takes place long before Hunt and Brandt ever crossed paths. ALTHOUGH, at the end Hunt MAY make an appearance, briefly, because I, for one, can't help wondering how he'd react to his teammate's double life. (Or maybe he knows…! Ethan usually knows…) Hope you'll enjoy the idea, anyway…?

 **DISCLAIMER:** BUAH-HAH-HAA! Are you KIDDING me?! Look, with my salary there's no owning A THING of these two AWESOME franchises. And trust me, if I'd be able to pay for Renner to appear on my production (which is assuming that I'd be even able to create a movie…) I'd be flying on the sky with joy…

 **WARNINGS:** some crossover elements, violence, language, **RATING MAY RISE TO M AT SOME POINT** , gore, whump… uh, that list is starting to look pretty alarming…

 **TAKES PLACE:** present time, after 'Age of Ultron'

 **LENGTH:** for reasons you'll figure out soon I've thought about twelve chapters plus a prologue and an epilogue

WOAH! That was a monster of an author's note. Awkay, it's high time to get to actual business. Here we go, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

 _ **Mission: Impossible – Hawkeye**_

* * *

Prologue – Your Mission…

* * *

 _Hanover, 1998_

* * *

After the screaming the gray, cold hallway was eerily quiet. All the way until a metallic door screeched violently in a protest against being opened. Steps of heavy, booted feet approached a man who leaned against a windowsill so heavily that his knuckles had turned white. "Do you have a problem with my methods of working, agent Brandt?"

A pair of blue eyes flashed hazardously upon meeting deep brown ones. "That kid… He's only nineteen! What you just did to him…!"

"He gave us five extremely valuable names. Names with which we'll be able to finally close his organization." The older man's gaze hardened. "We can't afford to start sympathizing with them. He wouldn't show mercy on us, either, if our roles were reversed."

"There's a difference between bringing justice and torture, even for IMF", the younger agent hissed.

The older man rolled his eyes with undisguised irritation. "We've been trained to kill, Brandt. It's what we do for a living and we've been recruited because we do it well. We either get the mission done, by whatever means necessary, or we get killed. There's no middle ground. You think those people we're hunting are any different? That they haven't accepted those same rules?" The man began to walk away. "You're still new to this game so I'll forgive you for this one. Have a cup of coffee, deal with whatever moral crap you've got going on and then join the team. We have a mission to complete."

Brandt gritted his teeth painfully tightly. Then squeezed the windowsill so hard that it hurt to keep himself from saying something he might or might not have regretted later. _If only you knew…_

* * *

 _Present time_

* * *

The Tower hadn't felt the same since Bruce Banner took off. Tony was a grown man, he could admit that much to himself. He missed having his science bro around, even if their personalities couldn't have been more different. Thor was also still away on his… little quest. Most of the time Steve and Natasha were busy with training the 'younglings', as they half-jokingly called the next generation of the Avengers. Of course Tony trained them as well but he had a massive international company to run. Along with twenty-five – or no, after a minor explosion twenty-four – active projects in development. His time had to be divided. Which still didn't keep him busy enough to help him forget that things just weren't the same anymore.

So, to put it bluntly, Tony was – although he would've never, under any circumstances, admitted it out loud – getting old and nostalgic.

The billionaire was almost ridiculously glad that at least Clint was back from his joined sick- and paternity leave. Very Barton, really. Trust it to take a bullet to the side _and_ a newborn baby to keep Hawkeye away from fieldwork for longer than a couple of days.

Tony, of course, didn't admit how happy he was. He had to have at least some pride, after all. "So. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered by the attention. But it's a bit… weird when you show up looking like you just came back from a mission and drag me to a café."

Clint made a decidedly _not_ happy sound. "I _did_ just come back from a mission. Pepper gave me a second one after you nearly blew up the Tower out of either boredom or lack of sleep. She told me to find out which of those two was the cause, and to keep you out of the way."

Tony scoffed, gratefully accepting the coffee an understandably suspicious looking barista offered him. "She's being over dramatic. I didn't almost blow up the Tower. It was just…"

"… a minor explosion", Clint filled in, unimpressed.

Tony gave his friend one of his megawatt grins. "Exactly!" They sat down, wisely choosing a table at which they'd arouse the least attention. "So, how did the mission go?"

"Classified information", Clint informed, appearing far more mischievous than should've been socially acceptable.

Tony scoffed, then pouted in a not exactly mature way. "See, this is why I hate working with people like you and Natasha. You have a cool answer like that for everything."

Clint smirked, then took a sip of his coffee. And winced instantly. "Okay, this has to be worse than some of the stuff I've had at hospitals."

Tony blinked once, his head refusing to quite keep up after he'd been awake for almost two days. "Oh?" He tasted his cautiously. It was divine. "Mine's fine. Maybe you pissed off the barista and she spat at yours."

As though summoned in a few moments the said woman made her way to them, appearing confused. "Someone just left a note and asked me to deliver it to you. Said that you're an old friend."

With a healthily suspicious look on his face Clint took the offered note and read it. Tony couldn't resist a teasing grin while the barista walked away. "You got a secret admirer or something?"

Clint, however, didn't seem amused. An unreadable yet very unnerving expression took over the Hawk's face. "Don't take another sip of your coffee, Tony."

It took Tony a few seconds to realize that there was something horribly wrong with the situation. He frowned and gave his friend a good look, his stomach knotting unpleasantly at how pale the other had gone. "Hey, Barton? Clint? You okay?"

Tony's eyes then fell on the piece of paper that'd been slipped to his friend. Screw privacy. He peered over the other's shoulder to give it a look. Somehow what he found succeeded in making his heart plummet all the way to his firmly knotted stomach.

It wasn't just a note. There was also a picture of a man who was clearly very much dead. Blood had dried below the poor guy's nose. And then, of course, there was a message.

' _I hope you enjoyed the coffee, agent Brandt. Your mission, should you choose to accept it or not… You have twelve hours. Vega_ '

Tony's head whirred chaotically. _Brandt? Mission? Vega?_ What was this, some sort of a stupid spy movie? Eventually he drew a solid blank. "What… the hell does that even mean?"

Clint swallowed loudly. "That's my mission. To die, just like that guy." Their eyes met. There was visible alarm in the archer's. "I... I've just been poisoned by someone who should've died years ago."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Okay, so poor Clint's SERIOUSLY in a trouble. (gulps) Who poisoned him? Will he get the antidote before it's too late?

And what about you guys? Would you like to read some more? PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know.

Awkay, it's time for feather islands for me. THANK YOU, so much, for reading! Maybe I'll see you again…?

Take care!


	2. Hour 1

A/N: Yuuuuuuup, it's time to continue this lil' tale. (rubs hands together) But first…!

THANK YOU SO MUCH for your reviews, listing and support! It feels SUPER GOOD that you've all joined in for this ride. I really hope that you'll enjoy what's to come!

Awkay, because the clock isn't a friend… Let's go! Hour one of twelve is at hand.

* * *

Hour 1

* * *

When Tony Stark was on a mission he went all the way. After Clint announced that the archer had been poisoned and had twelve hours left the billionaire froze for exactly five seconds. Then set a million wheels into motion.

Twenty-four minutes later found them from the Tower. Tony watched how Clint rubbed his face roughly with both hands. The motion hid the bandage that a hurried member of the inventor's group of scientists had put into place after drawing what looked like a gallon of blood into a dizzying amount of tiny tubes. They would've wanted to perform more tests but Tony was seriously starting to wonder how long he'd be able to keep his friend still. His stomach knotted and he shifted weight, feeling atypically and infuriatingly helpless. "A headache?"

Clint shook his head, still not looking at him. Were the Hawk's hands shaking? "Nah. Just royally pissed off."

Tony nodded, ignoring the fact that his friend couldn't see it. "That makes two of us." They were pissed off and scared shitless. Not that either of them would've been willing to admit it. Out of the two emotions anger was far more productive so out of silent agreement they focused on it. "So… Vega?"

Clint breathed in deep. As though testing it. "Vlad Lutsky. A big shot of a Ukrainian criminal organization that had its part in at least human trafficking and international firearm industry. It was also rumored that he might've been a mob boss but it could never be confirmed."

The newly revealed name was inserted to the computer. Immediately thousands of more or less legal files popped up. The picture of a young man with horribly sharp and chilling, nearly black eyes and almost white, shortcut hair was introduced. "'Had'?" Tony repeated, the past tense instantly striking his ears.

Clint nodded. "It was one of my first missions for that particular employer. We shut Lutsky's organization down. Or at least thought we did." The former – or was it still current? – agent's eyes were far darker than usual. "Now I'm not so sure anymore."

Tony nodded again, slowly. "Right… Okay… And, by shutting down you mean…?"

Clint met his eyes. For a fraction of a second shame and nausea could be seen in the man's gaze. "Our orders were to eliminate the minor targets and to interrogate the bigger players. By any means necessary."

Tony shivered. Of course he'd seen his friend in field but this was like being introduced to a whole another person. He cleared his throat and focused on his computer for a few moments, typing away rapidly. "So… You thought he was dead?"

"He was stabbed in prison. Repeatedly." Clint shifted restlessly, reminding the inventor of a trapped wild beast. "I was present when his remains were identified."

Someone faking their death? Under different circumstances Tony might've laughed at how clichéd that sounded. It was like a lazy plot twist from a bad action flick. As it was his expression remained grim. "He's after you because you were there when he was caught." The guy lost not only his living but also people he probably considered a family. Even less would've been enough to tick someone off.

"No. Not exactly." Clint licked his lips and looked at him with eyes that seemed to be trying to determine how much more he'd be able to take. "This… is more personal than that. He's after me because as far as he knows I was behind the explosion that killed his sister."

Tony stared, his fingers freezing into the airspace above the keyboard. His eyes widened. _What?!_ "But you weren't", he managed at last, unable to sound as sure as he would've wanted to. "Right?" Honestly? At this point he was starting to wonder just how much his friend might've been capable of, once upon a time.

Hurt and amusement both flickered in Clint's eyes. "Of course I didn't. It was her only way out of that nightmare. I arranged a new name and a safe place for her. In exchange she became one of my most important informatives."

Tony's head was starting to spin and he was fairly certain that his brain actually hurt from information overload. Wasn't this a lovely mess… "And the name Brandt…?"

"William Brandt is one of my aliases." Clint's eyes softened just a little bit, reminding Tony that this was still the same man, still his friend, despite everything. "You guys are the only ones I work with who know my real name."

Tony felt a stab of grief as the full meaning of those words dawned on him. A life like that, always forced to play a role, going by many different names… It had to be horribly alienating and lonely. Despite those thoughts the inventor did his best to grin. "Well, that makes sense. We're special."

Clint grinned back, something like relief settling to his features.

And then, of course, Clint's phone just had to start ringing, interrupting the conversation that'd been on the verge of sailing towards comfortable waters. Tony noted that it wasn't the phone his friend usually used. Just one look at the Hawk's face confirmed that whatever was about to come wouldn't be pleasant. They exchanged a nod before the archer picked up and the billionaire began to work on his computer. The call was directed to a speaker.

" _… been a while, agent Brandt._ "

Clint's jawline tightened. "And here I was hoping that I'd heard the last of your voice. Thanks for the coffee, by the way. Although I can't say I would've liked the taste too much."

Lutsky sighed heavily. " _Critics…_ " There was chiming that sounded oddly familiar at the caller's end. Like a big clock. A nice little message… " _You should be flattered. I made that blend specifically for you._ "

Clint leaned back, folding his arms. Or, well… The man sitting there didn't quite look like Clint Barton. "Twelve hours, then? That's bold of you."

Lutsky chuckled. " _What can I say? I'm getting sentimental with old age. I've been looking forward to having a little… chat with you._ "

Clint's eyes narrowed. The look filling them would've chilled anyone. The growled words that followed were said in a language that Tony didn't understand. Considering the tone, he suspected that he was happier that way.

" _Promises, darling…_ ", Lutsky purred. It was impossible to identify the sound that came next. " _I'll see you soon._ " With that ominous promise the phone call was over.

It'd lasted quite long enough, though. Tony had a solid location. "The bastard's in London."

"Language."

They turned to see Steve and Natasha entering the room. Both had solemn expressions. Natasha shrugged at the look on Clint's face. "What? You're an idiot enough to get yourself into a trouble and expect us not to butt in?"

Tony smirked sheepishly at the thunderous look darted at him. "I… may have notified them while you were getting the blood tests done." He rolled his eyes. "Like Natasha wouldn't have found out eventually, anyway. And then she would've kicked my…" He swallowed the intended word at Steve's warning glance. "… _behind_ for not letting her know."

Clint shook his head, giving them all a stern look. "This is something that I have to deal with alone, alright? This guy and the people he works with… I don't want you to have anything to do with them."

"We're a team." Steve's voice was firm, left absolutely no room for objections. "And being in a team means that you don't get to face anything like this alone."

"You've been poisoned", Natasha continued fiercely, lava in her gaze. "Do you honestly expect us to just stand back and let you handle this alone?" Somehow she made her way to the archer before any of them managed to register it properly and gave his head a good smack.

Tony also nodded. "That's right. Only I'm allowed to bully you and get away with it. Besides, beating up some idiot criminal? It's gonna be fun!"

Natasha nodded. Steve gave Tony a look that was supposed to be disapproving. It seemed closer to amused or touched.

Clint appeared to be wondering if they were serious. Then, slowly, melted to a small smile. "I… Thanks." When the Hawk got up and they all twitched the man emitted a brief chuckle. "Look, I appreciate the fact that you guys care. But I'm just going to the toilet and… I'd rather not have an audience, okay?"

The rest of them stepped back, embarrassed, and allowed Clint to leave. Once the archer was out of earshot Steve spoke. "Your system's monitoring him, right?"

"Of course." Tony sighed, the weight of everything that was going on crashing down on him. "We all know how well this guy accepts help. Best make sure that he won't run for it."

* * *

As soon as Clint made it to the toilet he took his usually used cell phone and chose number two on speed dial. In a flash Laura picked up. " _Hey. Is something wrong?_ "

"No, no. Just…" Clint gritted his teeth when his eyes stung hellishly. _I'm scared and needed to hear your voice._ His tone, however, was eerily calm. "Remember how you've been talking about going to see your sister in Paris? This mission is going to take a bit longer so maybe you should take the kids there. You need a vacation."

The sharp pause that followed confirmed that Laura understood his coded warning. They'd gone through this emergency scenario a hundred times, after all. " _Yeah, I think I will. She just called and asked when I'm going to come, anyway._ " She had to stop for a few moments. " _Just… Take of yourself, okay? I…_ "

"I know." Clint couldn't bear to hear those words. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and rubbed them with one hand. "'you, too." On the spur of the moment he went on. "Hug the kids for me?"

" _I will._ " Laura took some time before finding her voice. " _Bye._ "

Clint wiped away the single tear that rolled. "Bye." As the phone call ended he could only hope and pray that it wasn't the last time he got to talk to his wife.

Clint spent the next twenty seconds pulling himself together. Until he felt something warm and sticky under his nose. Opening his eyes with rapidly growing dread he looked into a mirror and felt his stomach knot. He was having a nosebleed. He _never_ had nosebleeds.

With far from steady hands Clint washed his face with cool water, relieved when the flow of blood ended soon. First caressing his face with the refreshing liquid and then toweling himself dry he forced himself to focus. He willed back the mental images of worst case scenarios. Of his wife and children. All he concentrated on was getting the job done.

He became William Brandt, a man with no family expecting him to come home.

There was a knock on the door. " _Feathers? You okay in there?_ "

At first Clint was about to tease Tony for the man's impatience until he realized that ten precious minutes had ticked by. His stomach dropped uncomfortably. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a sec." He took a one more, deep breath, then opened the door.

Tony stood behind it. The billionaire's whole posture screamed that the man was fully prepared for the battle to come. "Ready to kick some ass?"

Clint grinned. Even if it didn't feel right. "Always."

Tony went on as they began to make their way to where Steve and Natasha were surely waiting. "I told my research team to let me know the second your blood's been analyzed. They've been ordered to check _everything_."

Clint nodded. He had no idea how he'd ever manage to repay this. "How fast can you get us to London?" Because he knew now more clearly than before that time was running out.

Tony smirked. "I've got the best toys. It won't take even half an hour." There was a pause. "Do you think this a trap?"

"I'm sure of it."

Tony considered that for a moment. Then nodded. "Okay. We're good at dealing with traps."

From thereon it felt like no words were necessary. Their team of four boarded Tony's finest private jet in a silence, attempting to prepare themselves for whatever was to come. In the back of their head they all heard the distant, taunting sound of a clock ticking forward mercilessly.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: And the battle is ON! What, you expected Steve and Natasha NOT TO join in? As if, when someone messes with their Hawk! (grins) But now… How's this whole mess going to end? Will Clint make it through alive?

Sooooooo… Any good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know your thoughts! That box down below is super hungry…

Until next time, ya all! I really hope that I'll see you there.

Take care!

* * *

Guest (1): I'm OVERJOYED that you enjoyed the first taster so much! (BEAMS) I really hope that what's to come pleases you as much.

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

Occea: Ah, you mean outside ? If so, sounds SUPER exciting! (BEAMS) This… isn't exactly a pure blooded crossover so this doesn't technically belong there. BUT, I'm absolutely and super curious to check out the fics there! Those two fandoms are just too awesome.

GOSH, I really hope that what's to come meets your expectations!

Monumental thank yous for the review!

* * *

IrethOfMirkwood: DANG, I'm happy that you enjoyed the first chapter so much! I really hope that the story to come meets your expectations.

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	3. Hours 2 and 3, part 1

A/N: Phew! It's WAY later than I should be awake but here I am, with an update. So… Hooray?

THANK YOU, so very much, for your awesome reviews, listings and love! I was a bit nervous about launching this story so it means A LOT that you've joined in for the ride. (HUGS)

Awkay, before I get all sappy… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride. Watch out, it'll get bumpy!

* * *

Hours 2 and 3, part 1

* * *

During the ridiculously fast flight to London Clint briefed Steve and Natasha on what he'd already shared with Tony. He told them everything he knew about how the monster operated, about what he knew of the man's connections. Anything and everything he imagined might be of even the slightest use.

If they insisted on coming along… If they butted in and refused to let him handle this alone, the safe way… Then he'd at freaking least ensure that they had all possible ammo against one of the worst people the Hawk had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

"What about his sister?" Steve asked when Clint imagined that he'd told them _everything_. The Captain's face was settled to a fully focused frown which was a sure sign that the soldier was furiously trying to distract himself. But tiny sparks of panic and worry could be detected if one knew where to look. Clint did. So did Vlad Lutsky, which was bad news.

Clint gritted his teeth. His gaze fell to discover that there was a glass of water in his hold. Odd. He didn't remember taking or receiving it. "She's been informed and she's safe. No matter how far and wide his connections go he'll never reach her." He'd made sure of it. He scowled at the water. "You have anything stronger, Tin Can?"

"Funny", Natasha quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and irritation. "You've been poisoned. And I can tell that you're developing a headache. Which means that no alcohol for you."

Clint scowled again, inwardly cursing that she knew him too well.

"Hey, how about that!" Tony tried to sound cheery. It almost worked. "We're landing. Didn't I tell you guys that I have the fastest toy?"

"It'd be too easy to make a dirty joke about that", Clint pointed out, attempting to keep his tone light although the jet's landing was making his head feel like it might explode.

"Nice to know that the poison hasn't improved your sense of humor."

* * *

They were leaving the jet when it happened. At first Clint walked on perfectly steadily. Then, without a warning, the archer's knees buckled. Only Steve's reflexes kept them man from stumbling down the aircraft's stairs.

"Hey!" Steve explained in a voice that didn't sound quite like his. Panic flowed freely in the air, no matter how little any of them liked to admit it. "What happened? Is it the poison?"

Natasha's eyes darkened. Obviously anger was taking over to replace something that she didn't feel like processing at the moment. "No, it's something far more idiotic." She swore under her breath in Russian, then approached her friend. "Clint, when's the last time you ate?"

Clint… actually appeared sheepish. And very dizzy. "I'm… not sure. Yesterday?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "So at least two days ago. And when's the last time you slept?" She read the answer from his expression. "Yeah, I thought so." She took a breath. "Clint doesn't really sleep when on a mission. And he reacts to stress by not eating."

"Right. Okay." Tony seemed almost ridiculously relieved to face a problem that he'd actually be able to do something about. "Off we go, then, Birdie. Believe it or not but this particular humble home of the Stark Industries has a pretty nice selection of food."

"You're not cooking, are you?"

"You've already been poisoned once."

Steve and Natasha watched them go, Tony supporting Clint as they went although it was unclear if the archer needed it anymore. Tony certainly did, even if the billionaire would've never admitted as much under any amount of torture. Perhaps that was why the Hawk allowed the physical contact.

When the two disappeared Steve turned his gaze towards Natasha. He was fairly sure that he'd never seen her that worried before. "He'll be alright." He wasn't sure which one of them he was trying to convince.

"I know."

They were so wired that they both shivered when she received a text message. Her expression made it impossible to tell if the news were good or bad. "I have a contact here that I need to go and see. It shouldn't take long." She gave him a sharp look. "Look after him. Make sure that he eats and rests."

Even a fool would've realized how much Steve had just been trusted with. "I will." He would've asked her not to do anything stupid but knew that it was pointless. Instead he watched her walk away with a sense of immense dread in the pit of his stomach.

It took another twenty minutes before Steve actually entered the building. It took ridiculously long before he managed to navigate his way through the hallways and found Tony. The inventor was pacing behind a door like a caged tiger. "I managed to feed him a sandwich. He threw up immediately." The man, who'd paled several degrees from when they last met, gestured animatedly towards the door. "He said he… needed some privacy."

Steve nodded, his chest tightening. "I'll go and see what I can do." Always the soldier. Formulate a plan of action and execute. He looked at Tony. "You have all the best technology here. I'm giving him an hour or two. Make sure that we're ready by then."

Tony nodded fiercely, nothing short of steel hard determination on his face.

When Steve peered into the room Clint was already sitting on the edge of the bed. The archer slipped something into his pocket. Was that a photograph? "I… came to see how you're doing", the Captain explained, embarrassed.

Clint shrugged. "You know me. I'm always fine." Which was clearly the Hawk's way of saying that he was feeling miserable and scared to death.

Maybe, just maybe, Steve would be able to help with that. "Sleep", he commanded. Because nothing less would through to his friend. He pushed on immediately when he sensed an oncoming objection. "I'll keep watch. I won't let you oversleep."

Steve was fully aware of how difficult trusting people was to Clint. It was one of those things he was supposed to know about his teammates. So when the archer actually settled down and closed his eyes, drifting off quickly, the Captain realized that no one had ever trusted him more. He vowed to do whatever he could to be worthy of that faith.

* * *

Natasha was never, ever nervous or scared. She'd learned long since that surrendering to those feelings was unwise and would eventually get her killed. Still, as she stood staring at the spot where Anne Boleyn once met her violent end, the infamous Black Widow was far more tense than she would've found acceptable.

Soon enough steps approached her. She didn't bother to turn her gaze, even when a voice spoke in Ukrainian. " _I should've known that you'd choose this spot. You've always had a macabre taste._ " Vlad Lutsky sounded amused and relaxed, like a tourist on his best holiday ever. " _Did you see the Crown Jewels already?_ "

That was where Natasha's patience ran out. Subtly, unnoticeably, her hand slid towards her concealed weapon. " _Cut the crap, Vlad._ " Considering how long it was from the last time she used the language those words came out surprisingly smoothly. " _What do you want?_ "

Lutsky clicked his tongue. " _I'm insulted. Isn't it possible that I wanted to say 'hi' to an old friend when I heard that she was in the neighborhood?_ "

" _We both know that you don't have friends._ " At last she turned her head to face him and met a pair of sharp, dangerously alluring deep blue eyes. It'd been a while since they last met – he was now forty-three if her memory served her correctly – and since then he'd obtained a new scar to his pale cheek. But he was still devilishly handsome, especially with the dimple a rather frosty grin revealed and wind tousled, shortcut hair of the darkest brown. " _The people you talk to willingly either work for you or die._ "

Lutsky chuckled and shrugged. " _True enough._ " They began to walk forward, towards Traitor's Gate. Nauseatingly convenient. " _Alright, then… I have a confession to make. I do need you to do me a little favor._ "

Natasha's temper flared. It took absolutely all her training and field experience to not let it show. " _I'm done with your favors_ ", she hissed. " _I worked for you twice. I don't owe you anything._ " Especially now.

" _Pity._ " Lutsky's tone was still light. That of a man who'd already won. " _In that case you should hurry back to Brandt and say goodbye. Because he's never going to get the antidote._ " So saying the criminal began to walk away.

And Natasha knew, with a ton's weight crash-landing to her shoulders, that she didn't have a choice. She lifted her chin and swallowed hard but wasn't able to get rid of the bitter taste. " _What the hell do you want?_ " she snapped.

Lutsky stopped and searched the pocket of his long, black coat. She braced herself for anything. What he gave her was a flash drive. The man smiled at the look on her face. " _Always so suspicious… Don't worry, it isn't anything dangerous. I want you to deliver it to Stark._ "

Natasha took the item and inspected it with careful, sharp eyes. Then shot a glare at the man. " _And if I don't give it to him…?_ "

" _I have eyes everywhere, don't you remember? If Stark doesn't get that in half an hour he'll have a bullet between his eyes. And Brandt never finds the antidote._ " Lutsky's eyes bore into hers when he moved closer once more. " _I told you not to make friends. It's hazardous to their health._ " With those ominous words he kissed her cheek gently and left. He didn't look back. He knew that he had her right where he wanted her and there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

Clint had always been a light sleeper. Especially when he was feeling unwell and vulnerable. His eyelids twitched before finally agreeing to open when he felt someone sitting to his bedside. At first his vision was full of blur but eventually he was able to distinguish Natasha. Instinctively he attempted to get up but she stopped him with pressing a firm yet gentle hand to his chest.

Clint swallowed. He was pleased to discover that he didn't feel nauseous anymore. "How long was I asleep?"

"About forty-five minutes. And according to Steve and Tony you woke up thrice." Natasha offered him water, which he accepted gladly and drank a few, slow sips. "Get some more rest. You're going to need it to stop Lutsky."

Of course Clint knew that she was right. But he hated the thought of just laying around useless while she and the others did all the planning. All of a sudden he frowned, catching something suspicious on her face. "'you okay?"

Natasha looked at him sharply. Her expression remained unchanged when she shook her head. Still there was something incredibly vulnerable and open to the gesture. "No, I'm not." Her eyes then hardened, as they always did before she delivered orders. "Now sleep, ten more minutes. I'll wake you up."

It wasn't like Clint had any actual choice over the matter. His eyes slipped closed before he could process anything. On his way to a grey hue he could've sworn that he felt a hand grab his.

* * *

Tony didn't do well with waiting around. After checking up on Clint for the twentieth time in fifteen minutes he decided to try and find something more they could use to defeat Lutsky. Sure, they had the criminal's name, exact location and something resembling to a plan. But he couldn't quite smother the tiny, infuriating voice in the back of his head which kept nagging that the bastard was somehow a couple of steps ahead of them.

As soon as he approached the computer he preferred to use in that particular building he saw it. And froze. Where did that flash drive come from?

Tony knew that it was stupid. Quite possibly horribly dangerous. But he _needed to_ know.

Tony wetted his lips, his heart pounding a little faster than it should've. Then, his hands infuriatingly unsteady, inserted the stick.

There was only one file on it, titled ' _Hi_ '. Tony clicked it open with a healthy amount of suspicion. In a few seconds a man he'd never seen before filled the screen with a smile that would've chilled anyone. " _Hello, Mr. Stark. I'm sure that by now you know who I am so let's waste no time on introductions._ " _Lutsky._ The man leaned forward, as though about to make a business deal. " _Now… Let me assure you that this is nothing personal and I am truly, genuinely sorry. You simply happened to become friends with the wrong person._ " All of a sudden the criminal's eyes changed, became sharp and deadly. The smile was gone. " _By the time you're watching this I have five men very, very close to Pepper Potts. Don't worry, she's perfectly fine and completely unaware of the danger. I wouldn't want to harm that pretty face if I don't have to. If you wish her to stay safe you have two hours to make sure that agent Brandt is in my hands. Try to warn him, her or anyone else in any way and she'll be killed immediately. Try to come here and you'll find her in fifteen pieces. Kill me or allow me to die and you'll never see her again. Fail to meet the schedule and…_ " Lutsky chuckled, sounding almost drunk. " _Well, I'm sure that you can figure it out. You're supposed to be a genius, after all._ " The man then sobered and sighed heavily, almost remorsefully. " _As I said I'm sorry. This feud it entirely between me and agent Brandt. I was hoping to keep it that way, but… Well, collateral damage happens. Now, tick tock. Give me agent Brandt or I'll have fun with Miss. Potts instead._ " With that the recording ended.

Tony stared at the screen with wide, shocked eyes. Barely breathing. All of a sudden he understood all too clearly.

Poisoning Clint… It was only a ruse to coax the man to London, or perhaps a backup plan. Lutsky wanted the Hawk to _suffer_. And the criminal was making Tony play a part in it.

By the time Tony finally left the room Steve stood behind the door, ready to knock. The soldier frowned. "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"Nah, I'm good. Just… You know." Tony shrugged, feeling so helpless and furious that he wanted to scream. "Is Clint done with the beauty nap? We've got some planning to do."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh gosh…! Tell me, honestly. Did YOU guys see THAT coming? The poor team sure didn't! (winces) This'll be such a mess…! And it looks like poor Clint is growing weaker quickly.

Sooooooooo… Comments? Questions? Rants? Threats? The box down below is just for those! Surely you wouldn't want it to go hungry…?

Until next time, ya all! I REALLY hope that I'll see you then.

Take care!

* * *

Guest96: Awww, welcome aboard! I'm SO HAPPY that you're enjoying a ride. (BEAMS) LOL, all to true! The poor thing's a magnet for disaster…

Massive thank yous for the review! Until next time?


	4. Hours 2 and 3, part 2

A/N: Phew! I'm SO SORRY about missing out an update last week. I was away for the weekend without my laptop and around those usual typing days I was insanely busy. (groans) I REALLY hope that this chapter makes up for the wait!

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings and love for this story! It feels SUPER good to know that you're out there, waiting for an update. I really hope that you'll continue to enjoy the ride!

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting for too long… Let's go! It's gonna be a bumpy ride…

* * *

Hours 2 and 3, part 2

* * *

Hanover, 1998

* * *

The IMF-team had been interrogating Vlad Lutsky for a full month. No technique seemed to bring the desired results. In the end the team's leader made a decision none of them was entirely sure they could approve.

A little boy, whose scared sky-blue eyes darted around with confusion, was escorted roughly into the room. The second the child's gaze landed on the battered man they both began to cry. " _Daddy!_ " A pair of arms held the boy back as he attempted to launch himself at his dad. The kid was strong and stubborn but no match against the adult. " _Daddy, I wanna go home! Please, daddy, please!_ "

Vlad's eyes blazed hellfire as they darted around the people gathered into the room. " _Let my son go_ ", he hissed. " _Right now!_ "

The team's leader took a step forward, crowding the younger man's personal space. "You refused to cooperate with softer methods", the man explained, clearly using English to irritate the other. "So it's time to try something different." The room's tension grew tenfold when out of the blue a gun was drawn. "Don't make me use this in front of him, Vlad."

" _DADDY!_ "

No one was entirely sure what happened. One second Lutsky was firmly restrained. On the next he was fighting over the gun with the team's leader, both men growling and hissing. Then the gun went off and everything froze.

William Brandt had been holding on to the child the best as he could because he really, honestly thought that it was the only way to keep the kid as safe as possible. That was until the boy began to slump down limply and the horrified agent saw all the blood. The second he saw the boy's glazed over eyes he knew that it was too late. The bullet had gone right through the little one's heart. And the agent knew that he'd never, ever sleep soundly again.

He wasn't the one who made the call. He sure as hell didn't approve it. But the little boy's blood nonetheless stained his hands.

Everyone else's focus seemed to be on getting Lutsky restrained once more. The man cried and screamed while William slumped down without making a sound. It wasn't until he was already on the floor it occurred to him that the bullet went right through the kid and the boy stood directly in front of him.

* * *

Present Time

* * *

Clint splashed ice-cold water on his face with unsteady hands, struggling to control his shuddering breaths. It wasn't the first time he had a nightmare of the dead child. Some nighttime horror-stories he'd almost gotten used to, somehow. These weren't among those.

That boy… He was of Lila's age. The thought was nearly enough to drive him insane on a good day. Today wasn't a good day.

Clint nearly broke and called Laura. His intentions were halted by a knock. Soon after Steve peered into the room with a frown of worry on his face. "Everything alright?"

Of course nothing was alright. But Clint nodded, doing his best to maintain a brave face. "Yeah. I'm done sleeping." He cleared his throat, not liking the coppery taste in his mouth. "What's up?"

"We're in the blue meeting room. Tony's got some information." Steve hesitated for a bit. "If you're up to it you can join us."

"Of course I'm joining you guys", Clint growled. "I just… need a second." He'd been poisoned. Some of his worst nightmares had been brought back to life. But he wasn't down, much less out. He was still alive, whether he deserved to be or not, and he had no intention of giving up the fight.

He owed better to his family and that little boy.

* * *

The team members wore grim expressions as they looked at the intel Tony's systems had managed to obtain. "As far as we know there are two buildings in London which may still belong to Lutsky." The billionaire drew two circles to a map. "There's been notably more activity around the one in Camden."

Clint nodded solemnly, rubbing the bridge of his nose gently with two fingers. "That's the one. It's his favorite." The archer frowned. "It… feels a bit too obvious, though. Even for a trap."

"We'll have to check out both locations", Steve concluded, his jaw tightening as plans and worst case scenarios flew by. The soldier's eyes betrayed a clear hint of worry as they swept towards the Hawk. "I think you should stay here and rest…"

"Yeah, not an option." Clint's eyes were ablaze, despite the fact that the man was obviously in a huge amount of pain and utterly exhausted. "It's bad enough that you guys insisted on being dragged into this. I'm not letting you fight my battles for me."

Steve opened his mouth to protest but Natasha's raised hand cut him short. "We let him along or he lets himself along and does something stupid." She narrowed her eyes at the mentioned archer. "No stupidities. Understood?"

Clint rolled his eyes and gave her a dry look. "You know me. Do you seriously imagine that I can promise you that?"

Tony grinned. It didn't come out right. "Don't worry. I'll be his babysitter."

The tension that formed between Tony and Natasha could've been cut by a knife.

* * *

/ _Tony had been on his way to the meeting when one of his employees, a young woman with wide brown eyes named Samantha, approached him hesitantly. "I've… processed the footage you asked me to take a look at." She looked around, as though searching someone with her gaze. "Is this… a bad time?"_

 _"Nope." He tried to keep his tone light although he was starting to get the feeling that soon he'd hear something unpleasant. "Did you find out who left me the flash drive?"_

 _Samantha licked her lips and shifted weight nervously. "Two of the room's security cameras had been taken down but… The hidden one close to the door wasn't noticed. It caught only one person approaching the room. Agent Romanoff."_ /

* * *

Natasha gritted her teeth. She didn't know what was on the flash drive but had some unpleasant, inkling suspicions. Yet there was fairly little she could do without revealing her own secrets or without making Lutsky go through with his threats. She could only see this through and do her best to keep an eye on her friend. "Keep him safe or you'll answer to me." It sounded every bit like the threat she meant it as. Good. Her gaze moved to Clint. "Stay on the comms. Let's not make another Madrid out of this."

Clint's expression didn't give away whether he understood the hidden meaning behind her words. He produced a small grin. "You and I remember Madrid very differently."

* * *

Perhaps Steve was from a different time. But he wasn't stupid or blind. Something aside the obvious was going on and whatever it was, he had a bad feeling that their team would never be the same again.

Steve watched Clint leave with a clearly tense Tony and then focused on Natasha, who was observing the two with a barely visible frown. The Captain was glad that he contacted a certain someone when no one was looking.

* * *

Clint was just about to follow Tony to an elevator when one of the man's employees passed him by. For just a moment he could've sworn that he felt a stinging sensation, like he'd just been struck by a needle. In a few second he filed off the sensation as something caused by the poison.

"You coming or what?" Tony called out, a not exactly hidden trace of anxiety in his voice.

"Yup. Sorry." Clint's jawline tightened as he finally stepped into the elevator. "Let's go and see if Lutsky wants to say 'hi'."

* * *

Tony was all too aware of his many mistakes. He'd done far too many things he wasn't proud of. But this… might just be his lowest point.

When they sat into the same car and Tony began to drive the billionaire's every cell screamed at him to just spit out the truth. To tell Clint everything. To save his friend. He toyed with that thought for a long, tempting moment, wondering what the archer would say if the man knew…

"Has he harmed Pepper yet?"

Clint's question startled Tony so badly that he nearly drove off the road. He had to compose himself for several moments before he managed to focus on his friend. "What are you talking about?"

Clint gave him a dry look. "You're seriously asking me, with how fidgety you've been? We both know that there's only one person who could have you that riled up. So, again. Has she been harmed?"

Tony shook his head, focusing on the road. It was harder than it should've been to keep his hands steady. "No. She…" He cleared his throat. "She doesn't even know that she's in danger."

"Good." Clint's features softened, just a little bit, with relief. Still the stress and pain caused tension mostly remained. "She's a fighter and wouldn't sit quietly. Lutsky doesn't like that type."

The journey continued in a silence, with both of them deep in thought. The crushing weight that'd been making a nest on Tony's chest pressed tighter with each ticking minute, each fading away second. What he was about to do… However things might turn out he'd never, ever forgive himself. Things would never be the same again.

His lips opened, for what he'd never know. Because Clint was faster. "I'm… not checking out, or anything." The archer's firm, determined expression enforced those words. There was a hint of fear if one looked closely enough, true, but not even a faint trace of defeat. "But… If there's a time when I can't… Look after Laura and the kids." It was obviously the most important task the man could've ever given, the ultimate sign of trust. "Keep Lutsky away from them."

Tony gritted his teeth, feeling like someone had been twisting a knife in his guts. "Yeah, well… 'Not gonna listen to that crap 'cause that time's never gonna come. Got that?" Because they'd beat this. Somehow, impossibly, they'd overcome this. Despite what he was doing now he wouldn't let Lutsky… "That bastard's never gonna find out about your Little House on the Prairie, anyway. So don't worry about that."

Clint swallowed loudly. Two seconds of silence ticked by. "Tony, there's something…" The archer first slurred, then trailed off entirely.

A razor sharp flare of panic sped through Tony's body. It was a small miracle that he didn't drive them off the road. A quick glance revealed that Clint was either sleeping or heavily unconscious.

Tony could only hope, from the bottom of his madly hammering heart, that whatever was going on hadn't stolen those about nine hours they were supposed to have.

* * *

Laura was in the middle of packing up when she sensed a presence in the room. She reacted without a second of hesitation, just like Clint taught her. With a single fluid motion she'd grabbed a gun and was aiming it, holding on with both hands to maintain a solid grip.

Instead of a threat, however, she faced Nick Fury. The man took a step backwards and lifted his hands. "At ease."

Laura gritted her teeth. "You have to stop sneaking into this house like that or one day you'll get shot." She was a mother bear protecting three cubs and an idiot of a husband, after all.

"I'll keep that in mind." Fury clearly meant it. He looked around with a frown. "Where are the kids? I didn't see them."

"They're safe with someone Clint and I both trust." She frowned, tensing up as she tried to read the one eyed man's expression. A careful eye caught worry. "What are you doing here?"

Nick's expression became grim. Enough so to cause alarm. "I got the feeling that Clint's in a trouble. Call it a sixth sense. And based on the intel I just received you have something to do with it." He showed her a file, his finger pointing at the name-sticker on it. ' _Lutsky, Lena_ '.

For three full seconds Laura forgot to breathe.

* * *

Steve and Natasha were on their way to Camden when she realized that there was something in her pocket. She fished out the item with a frown. It was a hurriedly written note from Clint and she wondered briefly when he slipped it to her. All other thoughts, however, faded when she read the words.

' _If I never get the chance to, tell Tony that I knew and whatever happens, it'll be alright._ '

The realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Whatever Lutsky persuaded Tony into doing… Clint knew. Of course he did, someone who went by the name Hawkeye was expected to notice things. And the moron played along.

"Natasha?" Steve sounded worried and she wondered how many times he'd been calling out to her. "What's wrong?"

"We're going after Stark and Barton", she announced sharply, her voice betraying very little of her actual emotions. "Right now. Clint was an idiot enough to walk deliberately into Lutsky's trap."

"And Tony?" Steve's tone suggested that he was catching on. "What's going on?"

Her eyes darkened as she closed her fist around the note, hard. "Don't ask when you don't want to know the answer." Yes, Clint was right. Everything would be alright, she'd make sure of it. And then people would pay. Whether they were friends or enemies.

* * *

Tony pulled over and parked to the side of the road because there was absolutely no way he would've been able to drive further. "Clint?" So what if he sounded panicked? He had every freaking right to panic! His friend gave no reaction. "CLINT!"

Clint was still breathing. Deep, steady breaths. It was a small, thin beacon of hope in the ocean of _wrong_.

Tony's hand trembled when he reached it towards the archer. To do what he wasn't entirely sure. To offer a reassuring squeeze to the unconscious man's shoulder? To check the pulse? Chances were that he'd never know. But just before he would've been able to make contact his phone began to ring, enticing a small, strangled sound from the billionaire.

Tony took the item although he could barely hold it to find an unfamiliar number. He gritted his teeth, knowing full well who it was, and picked up. "What the hell did you…?"

" _Language, Tony. What would Captain Righteous say?_ " Lutsky sounded amused. " _Don't worry, it was only a mild sedative. I wanted to avoid… unnecessary complications. Thank you for your invaluable help._ "

Tony was breathing quickly and shallowly. It hurt, so much that he could barely take it. He blinked away the blurriness of his eyes angrily. "When I get my hands on you…"

" _Do you really imagine that threatening me is the best solution right now?_ " Lutsky's voice changed entirely. Became harsh and merciless. " _Walk away and don't look back. Right now. Or I'll finish this faster than I wanted to and put a bullet in his skull._ " To enforce those words a red spot appeared to Clint's forehead. " _You've been pleasantly cooperative thus far. Do you intend to end that now?_ "

What choice did he have? Tony hung up because there was no point in continuing the conversation and pocketed his phone angrily, then focused on his unconscious friend. There was a chillingly peaceful look on Clint's face. "I… I'm sorry", the inventor whispered, ignoring how his voice broke. "Seriously, Clint. I'm sorry." Even if his friend would never know or believe it.

Leaving was the last thing Tony wanted to do but with a great deal of effort he climbed out of the vehicle. His feet were dangerously unsteady as he walked away, all too aware of the eyes observing him. His whole body was trembling pitiably while he wiped his eyes with a furious motion.

As Tony walked away hour three ticked to an end.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: So there you have it. The ALMOST full background story of Vlad Lutsky. He not only imagines that he lost his sister BUT he also actually lost his son. Sort of explains why he went off-tracks… (winces) But what's the business with Laura? Are we still in the dark about something? And how is the story going to continue?

Any good, at all? Deletion material? PLEASE, do let me know! Hearing from you guys seriously makes my day.

Until next time, people! Which'll DEFINITELY be next weekend. I really hope that you'll all tune in again for hour four!

Take care!

* * *

Guest96: I'd say! And we'll see what more there's to come… (gulps) Poor Tony! He's just got no positive way out of this mess. Poor Clint and Pepper, too!

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest: I'm THRILLED that you've enjoyed the story thus far! (BEAMS) Hopefully what's to come won't disappoint, either.

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	5. Hour 4

A/N: Okay, so… It's waaaaay too late. But I'm DETERMINED to get this chapter out today, so… Screw sleeping. (grins sheepishly)

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings and support! This story is testing new waters for me so it means A LOT that you're taking the journey with me. (HUGS)

Awkay, because too sappy is too sappy… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Hour 4

* * *

They'd all agreed to wear tracking devices. The moment Clint's signal was lost Steve and Natasha exchanged gloomy looks, knowing all too well that things were really, really bad. Finding Tony, on the other hand, was less of a challenge.

They were two blocks away from the billionaire when Natasha's sharp command sliced the vehicle's quiet. "Pull over and get out, now. I'll take it from here."

Steve swallowed, not liking the idea at all. "Natasha… I'm not sure…"

Natasha's eyes flashed. "Some questions need to be asked. I'll handle it." Seeing the look on his face she went on with a roll of eyes. "Nonviolently."

Steve sighed heavily. "He's still a member of our team." Somehow he felt the need to remind her of that fact. Himself as well.

Natasha's eyes darkened. "We'll see." With that she was already driving away.

Steve had barely any time to sort out his thoughts until his phone began to ring. He sighed at the caller ID. "So you got my message." Telling that Clint had been taken, from right underneath their noses… wasn't pleasant.

" _I did._ " Surprisingly many emotions bled into Nick Fury's tone. " _And I just landed to London. With company. I'm sending you the coordinates to a secure location. Get there as fast as possible._ "

* * *

Tony had no idea how long he'd been walking or where, exactly, he was going. He just knew that he had to move. One foot after another.

Don't think. Don't feel. Just focus on the next step.

How _the hell_ was he going to even start fixing this mess?!

Tony jumped a little when a car parked beside him. He didn't relax when he realized that the driver was Natasha. The look on her face would've chilled anyone. "Get in. Now", she hissed. "We're going to have a talk."

Tony lifted his chin and nodded, his own eyes hardening. "Yeah, we do." He spoke again as soon as he'd sat down. "What, exactly, is your connection to Lutsky?"

Natasha considered for a long, stilled moment. Her face a mask of stone. "I used to work for him. Today it wasn't by choice." She glanced towards him only briefly but seemed to see everything necessary. "Whatever it was on that flash drive… You chose as well. Are you going to tell me why?"

Tony wanted to, he really did. He wanted to beg for her help and forgiveness because there were few things he'd ever done he regretted more than what he just did. But how was he supposed to do that when he had to make sure that Pepper was safe before confiding in anyone? When he was still in the process of trying to figure out a plan that wouldn't get anyone killed? When he wasn't sure if he could trust Natasha, no matter how much he wanted to?

"For your information…" Natasha's eyes were chillingly sharp as they stared at the road ahead. "Just about anyone else would be dead over what you just did." Clearly it was her way of saying that they'd be talking about the issue again later. In length.

Tony nodded stiffly. He was very much aware that he'd crossed a line. They both had, to protect those they cared about. "Yeah, I know." He gritted his teeth. "Look… I didn't wanna leave him there, okay? They… They would've killed him right there." He shrugged, hating how helpless he felt. "Just… So you know."

"So now I know." It was impossible to tell if she believed him. There was about a minute of tense, awkward silence. "And just so you know… He walked into that trap willingly. He's always been two steps ahead of the others." Her jawline tightened. "One day it's going to get him killed."

"But not today", Tony decided firmly, trying desperately to believe in his own words.

"Not today", Natasha agreed. She exhilarated the car. "Because we're going to find that idiot."

They were both deep in thought and unwilling to talk. The quiet was eventually pierced by a text message alert from Tony's phone. What he found was quite close to exactly what he'd been dreading.

There was a picture of Pepper talking to a phone. Supported by a short and brief message. ' _Find him and you'll never see her alive again._ '

Subtly, unnoticeably, his hand slid into his pocket. Wrapped firmly around one of the most precious items he'd ever gotten to hold. An ultrasound picture. And he felt like he'd been torn apart from the inside.

* * *

Natasha stiffened and fought the urge to reach out towards one of her concealed weapons. Of course she noticed the change in Tony. And she found herself wondering whose team he was on.

Before any words or actions could take place, however, the car's comm system crackled to life. In a couple of seconds Steve's voice came through. " _Is everything alright?_ " The 'you haven't killed each other, right?' wasn't exactly well veiled.

"We're fine." Natasha kept her tone clipped, professional. "What is it?"

" _I need you two to come somewhere._ " It was impossible to read from Steve's voice if the oncoming news were good or bad. " _We have… visitors._ "

* * *

Over the years Clint had woken up in a lot of bad places. Waking up in the presence of people who very much enjoyed the thought of killing him also wasn't exactly a new experience. So when consciousness began to seep in, slowly yet surely, Clint didn't panic. He listened to his body and surroundings, trying to catch something that'd help him formulate a plan.

He'd been restrained from his wrists. With metal, for which he was glad because less would've felt like an insult. His legs had, however, been left unchained. Amateur's mistake or a purposeful jibe. They tingled hellishly while hanging limply just a breath above the floor. Clint was fairly sure that he wasn't injured yet which didn't come as a surprise. Of course Lutsky wanted him awake for whatever the man had planned.

There was a sound he couldn't quite identify. It was soon followed by one of the most disgusting stenches that'd ever assaulted his nose and he actually had to fight not to gag. The slightest shudder went through his body.

It was strong enough to be noticed. "Ah, finally! I was starting to get bored and I'm sure that you wouldn't like me bored." Steps approached him from behind. "I saw you, you know? On a broadcast from New York. At first I thought that I was mistaken. Over the years I've imagined seeing you in a lot of places. Then I stumbled into a bar where a group of very chatty S.H.I.E.L.D agents were talking about you. With how drunk they were it was childishly easy to fish out information. Not to mention that they were quite happy to sell you out, especially when I told them why I was looking for you." Lutsky was already close. Too close. "So. Clint Barton or William Brandt? Which one of them is your real identity? Do you even remember anymore?"

"Do you care?" Clint was pleasantly surprised that he finally managed to find his voice. Or well, a ghost of it, anyway.

"No. I suppose I don't." Shadows danced on the wall. "You stopped existing by any name the day my son died."

Clint wished that he would've been able to tell how sorry he was. That he really did try to save the kid's life. That he had nightmares of those events almost every night. But what good would those words have done? "Have you killed the others already?" The team he faced that nightmare with… Were they gone? Dread pulsated through his veins.

Lutsky chuckled. "Don't worry about that just yet." That chilling sound again… "I have one question for you. Just one."

Clint tensed up when something metallic measured up his back, from his hairline all the way to where his spine ended.

The silence was heavy and loaded. The situation didn't improve when Lutsky finally spoke. "Where is my sister?"

* * *

Natasha and Tony made it to the given address about fifteen minutes after Steve. Neither of them was very surprised to find a grim faced Nick Fury. The man's companion was more of a shock.

Stood there, with worry stricken eyes but visibly furiously determined, was Laura Barton.

Natasha stepped forward immediately, a frown on her face. "What are you doing here? The kids…"

"They're safe." Obviously Laura wasn't about to reveal more, even to them. Clint had taught her well. "I'm here to look for my husband with you."

"Look…" Tony scratched his head, shifting his weight. "No offense, but… I'm not sure how much help you'd be."

"Actually… I may be the only one who can help. I know Lutsky better than anyone." Laura took a deep breath. "I'm that sister of his Clint once saved."

* * *

Clint wanted to gasp. To scream out loud. _Anything_.

That was _not_ what he was prepared to hear.

"I had a bit of a… chat with someone who saw the explosion. Before I dropped her off a cliff she said that she saw a woman leaving the building just before it exploded. Escorted by a man who matched your description remarkably well. You can only imagine my surprise." Finally Lutsky stepped into his line of vision. They eyed on each other, sizing up. The look on the criminal's face… It spoke volumes of what was to come. "The next few hours… They're going to be very, very unpleasant. But I'm willing to make them slightly more bearable if you answer my question." Lutsky leaned closer, invading his personal space. "Where… is… my… sister?"

Clint knew how Lutsky's temper worked. This was definitely going to hurt. "We both know that I'm not going to tell you that." He sounded like himself. Good.

Lutsky nodded. "Yes. We do. Which leaves us with a new question." The man showed him a sharp knife that shone when light hit it. "I'll keep you alive, I think. Maybe. For now. But I don't have to keep you in one piece. So…" The knife began to move. First it was pressed against his most private parts. "South?" Then it came so close to his eye that everything froze for a few seconds. "North?" Then, tantalizingly slowly, the blade was pressed against his abdominal area. Almost hard enough to break skin. "Or maybe the Equator?"

A few moments later Clint's scream of agony echoed through the building

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Aaaaaaaand… Wham. So, there. The players are in position. But just how much of a mess is this going to be? And what the heck just happened to Clint?! (winces)

Sooooooo… Any good, at all? Total, utter garbage? I'm so sorry about the short length but this felt like the right place to leave it (feel free to disagree, LOL) and I didn't want to cram TOO MUCH into the already tension filled chapter.

NEXT UP: Explanations, torture and possibly even a betrayal…

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll stick around for that one.

Take care!

* * *

Guest: Indeed…! (winces) I'm THRILLED that you've enjoyed the ride thus far. I really hope that what's to come won't disappoint, either.

Huge thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest96: We'll see, we'll see… But something seems suspicious… I REALLY hope that what's to come delivers!

Poor kid, right? (winces and sighs)

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	6. Hour 5

A/N: I'M SO SORRY that it took me this long to get back to this story! A couple of plot-details were fighting violently in my head. (groans) But now they've gained peace, so here we go. Hooray…?

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings, love and support. Those are DEFINITELY what brought this story back to life! (HUGS) I don't know how to thank you enough.

Awkay, because it's getting late AGAIN… Let's go! I REALLY hope that this turns out worth the wait.

 **SONG RECOMMENDATION:** 'Angel With a Shotgun'

* * *

Hour 5

* * *

"So… You're Lutsky's sister?" Steve sounded shocked and disbelieving.

Laura – or whatever her real name might be – nodded. "I… didn't know what he was, for a long time. Until I saw him at work." She looked down, clearly feeling sick. "If it wasn't for Clint's help… I don't know what I would've done. Because I knew that my brother had to be stopped." She shook her head and ran a badly unsteady hand through her hair. "So… He's still alive? And he has Clint?"

* * *

With Tony's duties as Iron Man, Pepper had grown fairly used to running the company in his absence. It would've made sense even without their… intimate relations. She had good natural business instincts and on top of those Tony had trained her well. She was able to handle pretty much any situation. And, as Tony Stark's very public girlfriend, she'd also been taught to spot and handle threatening situations.

She knew that she was in for one when she was escorted into a meeting room and faced a rather small but clearly armed and dangerous man with sleek, blond hair and the sharpest blue eyes she'd ever seen. "I apologize that Mr. Lutsky can't be present." It was impossible, at least to her ears, to recognize that accent. "He was… otherwise engaged."

Pepper frowned. "I see. I wish that I'd been informed in beforehand." She then offered a charming smile, hoping that it didn't seem too faked, and her hand. "As you probably know I'm Pepper Potts. And you are…?"

"Dima Bohdan. The company's other owner, although I prefer being a silent partner." The man smiled. "I'm sure that we'll reach a deal that satisfies both parties."

Pepper's fast speeding up thought process was interrupted by her receiving a text. She offered her companion an apologetic look, then gave the message a glance. It was from one of the five numbers she recognized as Clint's.

' _I know that you wanted a lime cheesecake for the party but they only have peach. Would that be okay?_ '

Pepper focused on her phone for less than five seconds, recognizing the code. Clint was asking her to trust him. But what…?

When she lifted her head it was instantly covered by a black hood.

* * *

Quite soon after a recap of the events thus far Tony excused himself. Once he departed the others observed a map of London. Steve drew two circles on it. "These are the possible locations we have so far. We were just about to inspect them when…" The soldier trailed off.

Laura, to their surprise, shook her head. "He won't be in either one of those. This…" She drew a third circle. "… is his favorite place in the entire city." Her jawline tightened. "We used to visit our uncle every summer. He worked in that building as a butcher. Vlad…" She wrinkled her nose. "He liked to watch uncle work." Intense worry and steel hard resolve brought new lines to her forehead.

Natasha gave her hand a small squeeze that everyone else probably missed. Fury's remaining eye gained the same gleam it always did in the heat of action. Steve nodded. "So now we have a location. We're going to need a plan as well."

Laura frowned. She glanced towards the room's door. "Shouldn't Tony be here for that as well?"

The three others exchanged dark looks. It was Natasha who spoke. "Not when he may have been compromised."

Laura tensed up, knowing all too well what that meant.

* * *

Tony couldn't stand looking at Laura, knowing what he'd done and what he might end up doing. So as soon as he could he announced that he'd check out the building's computer systems and excused himself. Once he was alone he took a deep breath, then another, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable tightness wrapping around his chest.

He'd had enough panic attacks to recognize one approaching and he couldn't afford it, not now, not with how much was at stake.

Tony had just started working on a computer when his phone began to ring. He frowned at the unfamiliar number and picked up with a healthy hint of hesitation. "Yeah?"

For a couple of seconds it was quiet. The voice that eventually came was strained but familiar. " _Tony?_ "

Tony's eyes widened. His heart broke and began to hammer at the same time. _Oh, hell no…!_ "Clint?"

* * *

/ _Lutsky was a lunatic. But also incredibly intelligent. The man observed Clint's reactions every single time the blade moved. North… South… Equator… Clint's lack of reaction was almost disappointing. Until it wasn't._

 _When the knife's edge brushed the agent's eyelashes the man shivered involuntarily and tensed up just enough for it to be noticed. Rage flashed in those eyes before it could quite be smothered. Interesting._

 _Lutsky smirked. Revealed his teeth like a wild animal charging for an attack. "North it is, then", he decided._

 _Lutsky made the same mistake a lot of people had done before him – he underestimated Clint Barton._

 _Clint's heart was racing as the blade approached his eye. No. Absolutely no way he was going to let his eyesight be damaged like this._

 _Before Lutsky had the slightest chance to see it coming Clint's legs were wrapped firmly around the man's neck. He squeezed, ignoring the knife that was still swinging wildly. Letting go could've and most likely would've meant losing his life or his sight. At some point he felt a sharp, hellish slash of agony and was unable to keep himself from howling with agony. The wound was deep. At the moment he didn't want to imagine how bad it was. There was no time to waste._

 _Eventually Lutsky's struggles died out. Not a moment too soon, because Clint was running out of strength. The archer gasped, shaking to the core of his being, while his legs let go, allowing the criminal to fall limply to the floor. With his captor unconscious Clint had only one big problem to sort out._

 _Gathering every ounce of strength and all the stubbornness he had, Clint glanced upwards towards the metal confining him. Calculated. Well. There was a reason why his second nickname at the circus was Houdini…_

 _Exactly thirty-five seconds later he fell gracefully to the floor, firmly to his own two feet despite the blood he was still losing. His gaze focused on Lutsky's still form and darkened. Several sinister and tempting thoughts were rising. He was just approaching his enemy when the man's phone signaled a text message. Morbidly curious, he gave it a look. And froze._

 _'_ You are being watched. He dies. So does Pepper Potts. _'_

 _Clint wasn't kidding himself. He knew that he wasn't just given an empty threat. Whatever choice he had just faded away. And of course things went from bad to much worse._

 _'_ You have two hours to die or somebody else does. A word of advice? Use that time well. _'_

 _Clint stared at the message. His heart pounding and his thoughts whirring madly. And came to the somber conclusion that if he couldn't do anything to the monster lay at his feet… Then he'd have to move. Perhaps he was out of options but he wasn't dead yet._ /

* * *

"Clint?" Tony tried again when his friend didn't respond. His throat felt tight and his eyes stung uncomfortably. "Where are you? Are you okay?" Of course he knew that he couldn't do much to help without it having devastating results. But maybe, just maybe… At least it seemed that the archer had made it away from Lutsky. That was a start. Right?

But something… was wrong. " _I… I can't talk long._ " Clint sounded out of breath. Alarmingly so. " _Look… I'm sorry that I had Pepper dragged into this. Both of you. I really am. I tried to keep you guys safe._ "

Well. That broke Tony's heart quite effectively. He gulped. "I know." And he did, because he knew his friend. "And hey, we'll figure this out. Insane situations like this are what we do best, remember?"

Clint chuckled. Or at least it sounded like that. " _True. Because we're kind of insane._ "

"Exactly." Tony took a deep breath, tightening his hold on the phone. "Now stop stalling, Pigeon. Where are you?"

" _We both know that you guys can't come and get me._ " Clint's voice held a hint of sadness but also steel hard resolve. " _Look after your family. I'll do the same. It'll be okay._ "

Tony's stomach knotted uncomfortably. Cold seeped into his blood stream. "Barton…!"

" _It'll be okay._ " It sounded like Clint meant it, despite his grim tone. " _We both do what we have to. Just… Do me a favor, yeah?_ "

Tony gritted his teeth painfully tightly. His eyes narrowed. "No way I'm going to listen to this…!"

" _Whatever happens… Don't let Lutsky win._ " With those ominous words Clint hung up.

And Tony was left with the sinking feeling that his friend just said goodbye.

* * *

As the phone call ended Clint closed his eyes, gasping sharply. He was in pain and exhausted. How badly he'd been hurt… Well, it was high time to find out.

He looked down, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do, and lifted the hem of his black shirt cautiously. The fabric was soaked and soon he found out why. His shoulders slumped.

It wasn't just a scratch, then. Apparently Lutsky never got the chance to retrieve his beloved weapon before passing out because the haft of a knife was clearly visible. Blood was seeping out around it like a small river, responding chillingly to the archer's heartrate.

Not good news.

Before Clint had the time to decide what to do about the situation slowly approaching steps signaled that he had company. He lifted his gaze just in time to meet Lutsky's chilling smirk. When the criminal spoke it became apparent that his throat didn't appreciate the recent assault. "Two hours, remember? I want you to die." The man pulled something from behind his back and caressed it teasingly with his other hand. "But first I'll make sure that you suffer."

* * *

Pepper put up one hell of a fight, just like Tony, Clint, Steve and Natasha had taught her to. She couldn't be sure how many attackers there were but estimated that at least three. It was oddly satisfying to discover that they were having difficulties with restraining her.

A particularly ferocious kick earned a groan. "I know who taught you _that_ move." Whose voice was that?

But the sad truth was that in the end she was overpowered. She kept trashing – fighting not only for herself but also for her unborn baby – and it only intensified when she was placed down. A van's door was shut loudly, making her shiver. "I'm sorry." That accent was definitely from the States. "But it had to look authentic for the security cameras."

"Who are you?" Pepper growled. Her brain was ticking furiously to come up with a way out of the situation. "Who do you work for?"

The hood was removed. And the whole situation got several degrees more confusing. Because there, on the van's floor, lay a woman and two men, one of which was the same who took her. All of them dead.

She lifted her confused gaze to meet that very same man, who was looking at her with those piercing eyes. His chin, though… It looked like the skin had been nearly torn off… "You're in safe hands, now", the man assured her in that American accent she just heard. He moved his black coat just enough to reveal a hawk-shaped pin hidden to its inner side. "A Hawk looks after his own."

* * *

Tony wasn't entirely sure how long had passed while he stared at his phone. Clint's call… It could probably be traced. They might be able to find the archer and save him.

And the second they did Pepper would die.

/ _"Look after your family."_ /

Clint knew. Clint freaking knew, and gave him the permission to… Like that would've made the inevitable any easier!

Tony's finger was unsteady while he deleted all traces of ever having received the call. The possibly last trace they'd ever have to finding their friend. He wondered with a heavy heart if he'd ever hear Clint's voice again. And knew all too clearly that if he wouldn't, it was his fault.

Tony didn't notice the tears filling his eyes. "I'm sorry", he murmured, his voice breaking. Only a heavy silence answered him. "I'm so sorry."

Tony was so preoccupied that he had no way of sensing that he wasn't alone anymore. Especially when his companion was a top-class assassin. He stiffened when Natasha's frosty voice spoke. "What are you sorry about?"

Neither noticed that Tony got a text message. It was from a concealed number. Top secret, absolutely untraceable.

The message contained a picture of a very much unharmed, smiling Pepper, at a secure location that couldn't be identified. Along with just two words. ' _Mission accomplished._ '

* * *

Clint must've blacked out at some point. Which wasn't a surprise, his wound considered. When he woke up he lay on the floor, firmly strapped. So Lutsky didn't trust him to stay under control even when he was half dead…

The first thing he saw was his own blood staining the filthy floor. The room was cold. He wondered if shock was setting in and under any other circumstances might've been worried about the thought not bothering him.

Lutsky, of course, wasn't unaware of his regained consciousness for long. A sharp, merciless kick to his ribs flipped him violently to lay on his back and struck whatever little air there'd been from his lungs. "Finally! You were getting boring."

Clint barely heard, because all his focus was on the huge, filthy hooks hanging from the ceiling. It was like stuff out of a horror movie. It took his all to not let the fast rising alarm from showing.

"Now let's pull up the meat, shall we?" Lutsky began to whistle while the criminal worked. "I'll have to tenderize it."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, I said 'no Ethan Hunt'… (smirks coyly and wiggles eyebrows) But OH MY GOSH! Clint just got Pepper to safety. But what about him?! Is he really where Laura suspects he may be – or did Tony just destroy their final chance to find him? And even if he is there, will they get to him before it's too late? WILL THE CLIFFIES EVER END?

PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know if that was worth the wait at all! Would you like to read more? The word's yours, folks! Feel free to rant all you like. (grins)

Until next time, folks. And I promise that it won't take this long! I really hope that I'll see ya there.

Take care!

* * *

Guest96: That she is! (grins) We'll see just where this mad ride takes us next… Poor Clint's in for NASTY stuff…!

HUGE thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest: Awww! There's absolutely NO WAY I could say 'no' to that. (grins and hugs) I REALLY hope that what's to come turns out worth the wait!

MASSIVE thank yous for the review!


	7. Hour 6

A/N: PHEW! It took me a while to tackle this. BUT, now I'm FINALLY back with a new chapter. Yay…?

FIRST, though… THANK YOU, a million times, for all your reviews, listings and love! It feels REALLY good that you've all joined this mad ride. (HUGS) We'll see where this storm takes our Hawk and his family next…

Awkay, because I've got mighty typing plans for this evening… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

 **WARNING –** pretty descriptive violence up ahead…!

* * *

Hour 6

* * *

When Natasha didn't seem to return Steve frowned, impatient and on the edge at the dawning battle. In the end he reached out towards his ear comm. "Tasha, where are you? We're about to get going."

" _You guys go on ahead. Tony and I… are in the middle of something._ " Her tone made it very clear that she wasn't interested in clarifying.

They didn't exactly have any time to waste on arguing. "Copy that." Steve focused on Laura and sighed heavily. "Clint's going to kill me for taking you along."

The woman shrugged. The look in her eyes made it adamantly clear why she was the perfect wife for Clint. "He'd have to go through me, first." She lifted her jaw. "I'm the one who knows that place and my brother the best. There's nothing you can do to keep me from going there to save my husband."

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. He'd been a soldier for long enough to recognize a lost battle when he faced one. "I know."

Fury, who'd been fiddling with his phone for a while, began to move towards the door. "There's… a contact I need to talk to. You two, stay safe and bring that feathery idiot home."

Despite the circumstances that made Steve smile. Just a little. "You've spent too much time with Tony."

Fury gave him a dark look. "Yes. I know."

* * *

Once the brief talk with Steve was over Natasha's focus shifted back to Tony. "So… You're telling me that Lutsky's threatened Pepper?"

Tony nodded barely visibly. There was a heartbreaking amount of despair in his eyes. "I had to protect her. She… She's my family, Natasha!"

Natasha's eyes narrowed dangerously. Even if, on some level, she understood. "I was under the impression that so are we."

"Do you really imagine that anything about this crap has been easy on me?" Tony snapped, his voice tight from emotional overload. A couple of moments of heavy silence passed by. "I… I want Clint out of this mess as much as you do. I just… I need time."

Natasha gritted her teeth. So hard that it hurt. "He doesn't have time, Tony."

The billionaire nodded towards his cell phone. Mindful to keep his motions subtle. "Trust me, I know."

Curious as well as furious, Natasha took the item and gave it a look. She was surprised when a quick inspection revealed a timer counting down. Showing the exact amount of time Clint had left to live. Provided that Lutsky would be patient enough to let the poison do its job, anyway.

"You guys are my family", Tony swore softly. His tone full of honest ache. "That's why this whole thing sucks."

Natasha said nothing to that. Mainly because she agreed wholly. Instead she finally pulled away the knife that'd been pressed against Tony's throat almost since she entered the room and holstered the weapon.

Almost instantly Tony was holding a gun at her. His eyes narrowed. "So you're not working for Lutsky?"

Natasha shook her head. Unflinching. "I was protecting my family, just like you."

Tony accepted that answer with a nod and put away the gun. "Good. I'm glad that we got this sorted."

Under different circumstances that answer might've amused Natasha. As it was she tossed the phone at Tony, her head already working on possible plans. "You've got a text."

Tony read the message. From the corner of her eye Natasha saw the billionaire's face grow hazardously pale. And then a little green.

She frowned. "Tony? What is it?"

Tony's hand was shaking when he finally, reluctantly, showed her the message. His expression was that of someone who was getting their heart ripped out of their chest. In a second she understood why.

The picture – which was sent almost right after he deleted what was possibly vital information – showed Pepper, very much safe.

* * *

Clint drifted somewhere on the line between consciousness and oblivion. The blood loss… The pain from the stab-wound and the hooks… They were too much.

And then he snapped back to full awareness at a blast of pain.

His eyes flew wide open to face a menacingly grinning Lutsky holding a baseball bat. "Wakey, wakey. You're missing all the fun."

Clint scoffed, biting back a wince. "So… What? You'll… club me… to death?"

"Nah. Too boring." Lutsky wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "I'll be gentle enough to not kill you just yet. The fun's only just getting started, after all."

Three more hits came in rapid succession. Clint used up all his stubbornness and endured the attacks in a silence. Determined to not give his companion the satisfaction.

He should've known that it was a bad idea to test Lutsky's patience. The man's eyes flashed. "Trying to be a tough guy, huh? Don't worry. We'll get that beaten out of you."

The new hit was fast and merciless. Came so quickly that the archer couldn't brace himself for it. And this time there was definite damage. Clint screamed, no longer able to contain it.

* * *

Steve's heart was beating a little too fast while he and Laura slipped into the building, then made their way through the shadowy hallways. The reek of death was everywhere. The threat hanging in the air… It was palpable.

Or then his imagination was playing tricks on him, which – under the circumstances – wouldn't have been much of a surprise.

Laura clearly shared his opinion. She shivered visibly. "This is even worse than I remembered."

Steve gritted his teeth. Then took a breath, telling himself to get his act together. "Then let's get this over with as quickly as possible." Clint didn't have any time to waste, anyway.

They advanced in silence for about two minutes until Laura's arm shot to the side, stopping him. Without saying a word, she pointed towards the floor. Showing a trap wire.

Clearly Lutsky wasn't too keen on having visitors.

They advanced further carefully. Wondering what more surprises there'd be waiting for them. Both shivered when they saw bloodstains on the floor.

And then they saw the door. Before they got the chance to decide whether they should walk through it or not a single sound froze them to the spot, made Steve's heart still for an unhealthy moment. It was a scream of pain, coming from the very room they were staring at.

 _Clint's_ scream.

* * *

Clint gasped, black spots dancing in his line of vision. He was struggling to remain conscious after having just _felt_ a couple of ribs bend and break. It was the kind of agony he never got used to, no matter how many times he'd experienced it.

Lutsky was clearly having the time of his life. "Well? Where's the tough-guy act now? Did the cat catch your tongue?"

Clint responded with lifting his chin and spitting at the man's face.

The results were quite the ones he'd been expecting. The bat rose once more, smashing against his left side this time. At least this hit didn't seem to break anything, although it hurt like hell. "One… more… chance", the criminal growled in a tone that definitely wasn't joking. "Where is my sister?"

Clint summoned a mental image of his wife and children. And smiled through the agony coursing through him. "Not happening", he murmured. "And do you know why?" He lifted his head a second time, although it took most of whatever little strength he had, and faced his enemy. "Because she and her kids… They're the most important people to me in this world." He smirked despite tasting blood. "That's why I swore to cherish her and be faithful to her. For as long as we both shall live."

For a few seconds Lutsky stared. Processing his words. Then paled from shock and rage as understanding sunk in.

Lutsky didn't start shouting at him. Didn't utter a word, really. Instead the criminal took a knife and plunged it at him, giving Clint his second stab wound that day.

Through the ensuing hue Clint barely heard the room's door opening. The steps echoed ominously in his buzzing, rapidly blurring head. He turned his gaze and had to wait a few seconds before he could actually see the arrival. When he did his eyes widened and his heart sunk into his stomach. "... no ….", he whimpered.

* * *

As soon as the door opened Steve and Laura tensed up. It was far too dark to see very clearly. When the lights were switched on things didn't get much more pleasant.

The first thing they saw were the hooks, stained by blood.

The second thing that struck them, like a sledgehammer, was the stench.

And then, finally, they saw the body hanging from the hooks. Shortcut, unruly hair of a much too familiar color. A man, most definitely, wearing a battle gear they recognized entirely too easily. Utterly still. Lifeless. The man's face had been beaten to a point past recognition but…

Laura took a couple of shallow, shuddering breaths. Moisture welled into her eyes. "No…"

Steve himself felt incredibly cold. His chest was painfully tight, enough so to make breathing a challenge. He was oblivious to the tears gathering into his eyes. The previous time he felt what he experienced at that very moment was when Bucky fell.

They couldn't have failed – not like this…!

They were too preoccupied by shock to notice that they weren't quite alone.

* * *

Clint's head spun when Barney walked into the room. His brother, who was supposed to be dead. His brother, whom he'd buried.

The older Barton sneered at him. "Sorry to disappoint, brother dear. But I'm still around."

Lutsky smiled. Obviously seeing Clint's shock. "I needed help to be able to pull off all this. Barney… was eager."

Clint paid no attention. All he could concentrate on was his brother. "Barney, I…"

"Save it", his brother snapped, showing hurt for the first time. "A bit late, don't you think?" The man then turned towards Lutsky and handed over an iPad. "All's set for the show, now."

Lutsky grinned. "Excellent! And right on schedule."

Clint frowned. Dread twisted uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. "What show?"

Lutsky searched through the device. "Well yours, of course." The screen was turned towards him. "You look ready to pass out but maybe this'll help keep you engaged."

What Clint discovered turned his blood to ice. Because there on the screen… Were Steve and Laura, entering an ominous room.

"They're in this very building, you know. They just don't know about this hidden part of it." Lutsky's eyes gleamed dangerously. "You succeeded in luring my sister to me. Thank you."

Clint felt so sick to his stomach that it took his all to keep it hidden.

On his way towards the door Barney stopped unexpectedly and turned, then smirked in a chilling manner. His eyes on his brother. "Just a one more thing. A one more surprise." The man's gaze turned into something truly terrifying. "Keep watching. The best part is only just coming up."

Ice cold dread filled Clint, forming a painful ball to his stomach. But he kept watching, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. Hoping and praying that he was wrong…

"You left me to die, Clint. You abandoned me. And for all this time I've been wondering how to return that favor. At first I thought that killing you slowly and painfully would be enough. But then… Then I found out that you were stupid enough to get married."

Tears rolled down Clint's cheeks. He was trembling violently and this time it had nothing to do with the poison coursing through his veins. "Barney, please…" He begged, even though he knew better. Because it was all he could do.

"You're gonna die." It was easy to hear how much Barney was enjoying the situation. "But not before witnessing how you've failed the love of your life."

Clint trashed, even though he only succeeded in hurting himself more. His heart was racing so hard that he feared it might give out. "NO!"

But there was nothing he could do. On the screen exactly two gunshots rang out. Steve dodged the one aimed at him with ease, using the shield, and struck back. But Laura… She was far more defenseless.

Laura's lips opened and her eyes flew wide when the bullet slammed at her chest, and then she fell.

"Right through the heart." Barney was practically purring. "Just like I asked."

Clint wasn't listening. Couldn't focus on anything, really. He kept trashing even though it was hopelessly too late. And then he was screaming at the top of his lungs, continuing to do so long after he no longer had any voice left. Clint howled, from the bottom of his broken heart that was still somehow able to keep racing. Tears rolled freely down his deathly pale cheeks. When he could no longer yell he kept whimpering, like a furious and injured wild beast that'd been left to die.

"She… She never hurt anyone." Clint had no idea how loud or quiet he was. He didn't care. He stared at the by then black screen with wide and blurred, desperate eyes. "She never did anything to deserve this."

"True." Barney stood directly in front of him, eyes fixed on his. "She only ever did one mistake. She met you."

"Finally something we can agree on", Lutsky – whom the brothers had forgotten entirely – hissed.

Barney barely had the time to turn and see Lutsky's gun before it was already fired. The bullet sank in right between the man's eyes. Lutsky's hand was perfectly steady when he put away the firearm. His eyes, which met Clint's as soon as the criminal was sure that the older Barton was dead, were a different story. "I only ever gave him one rule." Was that heartbreak? "I told him that my sister wasn't to be harmed."

Clint finally felt the warm moisture on his cheeks. It provided a stark contrast to the inhuman cold that'd taken a hold of all his body. He was still shaking. "We both failed her", he rasped, his voice raw and full of pain.

"True." Lutsky's gaze would've been incredibly threatening, if Clint had been able to care about what happened to him at all. With a swift movement a needle was plunged through the archer's skin. "And trust me, you'll pay dearly for that mistake." Whatever the substance the man injected was, it stung horribly on its way to Clint's system.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Okay… So. Yeah. That was… painful. Yeah. That's a good word.

I'm pretty breathless at this point myself so… Thoughts? Threats? PLEASE, do leave a comment before you take off!

And feel free to guess what in the world is gonna happen next!

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll join in for that one.

Take care!

* * *

Guest96: Thank gosh Pepper's safe and okay! But now… (winces) This is probably gonna get really, really bad. (gulps)

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time.


	8. Hour 7

A/N: So… Yeah. After the previous cliffie I figured that you guys deserved a rather prompt update. (smirks sheepishly)

THANK YOU, so, so much, for your amazing reviews, listings and love! I'm having a really good time typing this story. It feels really good that you've joined the ride as well! (hugs)

Awkay, because stalling's a nasty habit… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Hour 7

* * *

Clint didn't expect to wake up from whatever Lutsky injected him with. To be honest he wasn't sure if he wanted to. To face a world without Laura…

And yet, stubborn as he always had been, he opened his bleary eyes halfway and sighed, the air of London filling his lungs and making his chest expand painfully.

Everything was spinning and his head… It was so fuzzy that he couldn't really think. Wasn't able to focus and reason.

Did it all really happen? Was Barney really there? But… Barney was dead…

Yes, yes… Gone, now… Lustky shot him, didn't he?

Gone – just like…

Clint didn't care how much agony it brought him, couldn't. He twisted his body to the side and threw up loudly. Even if it did nothing to make him feel better. His face felt wet and he couldn't tell if it was from tears, sweat or both.

Under different circumstances he might've laughed at how pathetic he had to look.

He then groaned and did his best to curl up on himself. It wasn't just his heart hurting… (He winced instantly at how corny that sounded in his head.) The stab wounds, and the bruising he got from Lutsky's beating… He was definitely feeling it all.

Was this hell, his groggy mind mused confusedly.

" _You're awake, then._ " It was impossible to tell if Lutsky sounded disappointed, or pleased that the 'fun' wasn't over yet. Where was the voice coming from? Was he imagining it? " _I misjudged Barney, I'll admit to that. A mistake we've both made. And I'm going to ensure that you pay for your part._ "

Clint shook his head. Even if it made him feel so dizzy that he nearly slumped back down. His eyes stung hellishly so he closed them. A big mistake. All he could see was Laura fall. "Whatever you've been planning…" He was slurring like he was drunk. And _hated_ it. "… 'can't make this worse."

" _Are you absolutely sure about that?_ "

* * *

Tony was in an elevator when his phone began to ring. He'd been on pins and needles, basically, so it wasn't a surprise that he jumped. Or that he tensed up upon discovering who the caller was. "Steve?" He frowned when at first only silence answered him. Cold settled into the pit of his stomach. "What's going on? Are you and Laura okay?"

* * *

/ _Steve and Laura didn't have the time to notice the third gunshot, which took out the camera that had been filming them._

 _Once Laura fell Steve stood absolutely still for exactly two seconds. Then, mindful to stay in the cover of his shield in case the shooter was still there, he rushed to her as quickly as possible. "You alright?"_

 _Laura coughed and winced, then nodded. "Yeah…" She let him help her to a sitting position and groaned. She swore softly under her breath – something parenthood had taught her when there were too many little ears listening – as she pressed a hand against where the bullet slammed at a bulletproof vest. "Fury… didn't say how… unpleasant that feels." Clearly she'd had her breath knocked out. And she'd get some bruises. But she was largely unharmed. And he was planning on keeping her that way._

 _"Sorry about that. I knew that they wouldn't have let you come without a vest." They both tensed up at the unfamiliar woman's voice and he was quick to shift his shield so that Laura was safely behind it. "But I was told to create a show." They turned their heads to see a woman with dark, neatly tied hair. Was she bare-footed? "Someone by the name Barney was looking for volunteers. I thought I might be a little kinder than most of… Clint's old friends."_

 _Steve frowned. Barney? A quick sideways glance towards Laura revealed that she knew. Now wasn't the time for that interview, though. "You're helping us?" He didn't make the mistake of lowering the shield yet. This was an armed stranger who just took shots at them, after all._

 _The woman shrugged. "I was asked for a headshot. I suggested a bullet through the heart as well. Thankfully Barney appreciated the drama." She gave them a one more look – whatever she was evaluating he'd never know – and began to take her leave. "I was just cashing in on a favor. When you find Clint tell him that Ilsa said 'hi'." With those words she was gone. Like a trick of their imagination._

 _Well, the bullet still stuck on Laura's vest proved otherwise._

 _That was around when they remembered what distracted them in the first place. Almost simultaneously they turned their heads to see the body hanging a small distance away. Even if it was the last thing they wanted to look at._

 _Unable to think past the all too familiar body-shape and attire, Steve felt sick to his stomach as the same feelings he experienced during Bucky's fall crashed through him. Not another failure… Not again… Not like this…_

 _Before he saw what was happening Laura was up, staggering towards the corpse on suspiciously unsteady feet. Her back was to him so he couldn't see her expression but her trembling hands told enough. She just stood there, staring, either unwilling or unable to move._

 _Steve swallowed thickly. His eyes stung. "Laura…"_

 _Clearly she wasn't listening. Her hand reached out, gently yet firmly grabbing the front of the outfit. Steve had no idea what to think while she inspected the battered body, her hand brushing the side nearly tentatively. He frowned. "What…?"_

 _"It's… It's not him." Laura's voice was barely audible. Still those were some of the loudest words Steve had ever heard. "It's not Clint. I… I'd feel the difference."_

 _It took some time before Steve realized what she meant. The artificial tissue, from when he lost a chunk of himself… Of course she'd know._

 _Steve inhaled sharply. This… was all a bit too much. "Why…?" He couldn't even finish that sentence. How could anyone be sick enough to put up a display like this?_

 _Laura nodded towards the destroyed camera he hadn't noticed. Her posture was incredibly tense. "We need to find Clint, fast. If he just witnessed what I thought he did…" She didn't need to complete that sentence._

 _They left the room in a grim silence. Both knowing all too well that they might not have the amount of time it'd take for the poison to take effect. Neither was willing to imagine the consequences of being late._

 _"What about Barney?"_

 _"If I know my brother at all that problem doesn't exist anymore."_ /

* * *

Tony could hear Steve gritting his teeth. The Captain's voice sounded off. " _We're fine. But… We have a problem._ "

In the chaos that followed Tony didn't have the time to read the text message he received. It was just five words long. ' _We may have the cure._ '

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Lutsky's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched Clint's progress, the whole footage that the archer's contact lense camera transmitted flashing on his laptop's screen.

His sister… She was never, ever supposed to be harmed. Seeing Clint suffer for it felt better than he could've ever imagined.

Lutsky's team – which, in a way, was his family… His sister… His son…

Lutsky had always believed in justice and karma. He knew that neither of the two of them would be walking out of this mess alive. At this point neither of them really wanted to.

"We'll both be dead soon enough", he swore calmly, nearly purring. Pleased that Clint had been too drugged to take off the ear comm he inserted while the man was still out cold. "It's kind of ironic how many innocent people died before we did, isn't it?"

" _He isn't dead yet, you know?_ " a very familiar voice hissed from behind him. " _And although I'd very much love it otherwise… You're not getting off the hook this easily, either._ "

Lutsky sneered. " _You'll never be able to save him. Or the others._ "

Natasha's struck firmly and mercilessly. As the man slipped from his chair, heavily unconscious, her eyes burned like lava. " _Watch me try._ "

* * *

No one but the CCTV-cameras paid much attention as a lone man stumbled through the streets of London. Some of them gave him disgusted glares when he bumped into them and withdrew as though his touch had burned. It didn't seem to matter to them that he didn't reek of alcohol. Or that there were tears running down his cheeks. Or that despite the best patching up attempts some blood could be seen staining his shirt.

No one tried to stop him, much less help him.

He was practically an invisible man as he made his way towards a massive building that'd been abandoned for years. No one tried to stop him from entering. Much less from advancing up, up, up, all the way to the building's rooftop. By the time he got there he was so dizzy and exhausted that he crawled his way to midway of the rooftop, then stopped. He panted as he stared at the edge with wide, dazed eyes. Tremors – caused by the poison as much as by psychological factors – took over his whole body.

It wasn't like he wanted to… But he wasn't going to get out of this alive, anyway. And if this way he'd be able to…

Well, at least he'd never been afraid of heights. His brain was fuzzy enough to find the whole freaking Greek tragedy bitterly amusing. Was that a sob or a chuckle bubbling from him? "Sorry, Laura…"

As he pushed himself up the ear comm fell and he stepped on it without even noticing it, breaking the device.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: So… We all know how strong Clint is. But now… Now he thinks that his wife is dead and blames himself. He's in horrible pain, drugged and poisoned. Plus, apparently, someone's life has been threatened again. Is this really going to be end in a Shakespearean tragedy? Or will someone stop him before it's too late?

But hey, LAURA'S ALIVE! Good news, for once! What kind of a person do you think I am, anyway? (Oh, yeah…)

SOOOOO… Was that any good, at all – despite being a bit shorter? PLEASE, do leave a note – or a rant, if you like! Hearing from you guys makes my day(s).

It's REALLY late, so I've gotta go. Until next time! I really hope that you'll all be there.

Take care!

* * *

Guest 96: I know! (winces) We'll see just what happens next…

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time.

* * *

Guest: Awww, I sure won't! It feels REALLY good that you're so eager to read further. I really hope that what's to come won't disappoint!

Massive thank yous for the review!


	9. Hour 8

A/N: PHEW! It took me longer than I'd meant to. And for that I'm sorry, because I left you on a horrible cliffie! But here I am. Hooray…?

First of all… THANK YOU, so, so much, for all your reviews, listings and love for this story! Gosh. You can't even imagine how good it feels to have you guys taking this mad journey with me! (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting long enough… Let's go! I REALLY hope that this turns out worth the wait.

* * *

Hour 8

* * *

/ _William Brandt didn't know how long he wandered on the thin, treacherous line between being dead and alive. Sometimes he dreamt. Or hallucinated. At some point he was even out of it enough to imagine that his brother visited him. Mostly it was just incredibly dark. And cold._

 _He expected to wake up alone, like he usually did. Or maybe to have some medical professional nagging at him. Instead he faced the same man who ended up getting him and Lutsky's little boy shot._

 _The second he saw the look in the man's eyes William tensed up. He swallowed, hating how dry his throat felt. "'ing here?"_

 _The older man gave him a loudly speaking, dark look. "I decided that you deserved personal congratulations for blind sighting me completely." The room's air didn't get any more comfortable when it turned out that the visitor was fiddling with his morphine pump. "Since I don't have a lot of time and I'm getting irritated, let's speed up the process." The medication dosage was lowered. The man waited for signs of discomfort before continuing. "A simple nod or a shake of head will do, since you look ready to pass out. Did Nick Fury assign you to infiltrate the IMF?"_

 _The agony… It was absolutely unbearable, made William dizzy. Still he remained strong, refused to give in._

 _Which clearly irritated the man in front of him. The dosage was lowered still. "Is the S.H.I.E.L.D investigating IMF's excessive use of force?"_

 _William replied nothing. The beeping of his heart monitor intensified, responding to the growing level of pain. He was starting to sweat and tremble from the strain._

 _Once again the dosage was lowered. The older man's eyes hardened, became something barely human. "I may not be able to prove it yet, but I know. This whole charade… It's been an assignment to you, hasn't it? You've been investigating us. Me. You're trying to shut down IMF." The man leaned closer and hissed at his face. "Just be careful, agent Brandt… Even people with friends like Nick Fury…"_

 _"What the hell is going on here?" Stood by the room's doorway was Phil Coulson. And the man didn't seem happy._

 _The oldest of the three gave a smile that wouldn't have fooled anyone. "We were just having a little chat. Look, I don't mean to be rude but only family and…"_

 _"I'm his uncle." Phil's arched eyebrow made his smile almost menacing. "Now, are you going to tell me what was going on here or…?"_

 _William wanted to stay conscious – to warn Phil, to say something. But the pain and exhaustion got too much. He drifted into oblivion._ /

* * *

Clint blinked his eyes open with a great deal of difficulty, wondering when, exactly, he closed them. Did he pass out? How much time did he lose? What…?

And then, in a mad flood, it all crashed in.

* * *

/ _Lutsky's laugh was left forever echoing into Clint's ears. "You think I can't make this worse? Oh Will… Clint… Whatever your name is. You have no idea how long I've been keeping an eye on you." There was a chilling pause. "Did you really think that your kids could hide in that safe house with uncle Brucie? There are no safe places in this world."_

 _The world spun in front of Clint's eyes. He inhaled sharply, choosing to ignore how much it hurt. "… they're your…!"_

 _"Do you imagine that I want to harm them? That I want to lay a hand on my own flesh and blood?" All mirth was gone from Lutsky's voice. "But I will, if I have to. If you force me into going there. And I don't even have to do it myself. You know full well how easy it is to set off Big Green. Imagine a beast like that around two small, innocent children." The criminal clicked his tongue. "The choice is all yours – and the two hours I gave you are nearly up."_

 _Clint was quite sure that he'd never been in such pain in his entire life. He wanted to scream, to tear something apart, but with the blood loss and poison he was barely awake anymore. His eyes narrowed, blurry and stinging to a point that threatened to drive him insane. "… proof do I have?" he rasped, barely audibly._

 _"Check your pocket."_

 _Clint did, and didn't realize until then that he'd been trusted with a phone. His feeble hands barely managed to hold the item long enough to open a new text message. His heart plummeted to his stomach at the picture attached._

 _It was Cooper and Lila, who were escorted to a S.H.I.E.L.D safe house by a tense Bruce Banner._

 _"I've had years to plan on how to… repay you." Lutsky's voice was frosty. "The poison felt like a nice idea. And then I saw the opportunity to make Stark work against you. And then, finally… A family for a family." There was a taunting pause. "You already failed to save your wife. Are you going to let down Lila and Cooper as well?"_

 _Tears were streaming down Clint's cheeks. He didn't want to beg. But at that horrible, hopeless moment… He most likely would've if he'd found enough breath and strength for it. Instead he whimpered like a wounded, suffering wild animal._

 _"Oh, stop that. It sounds pathetic." Lutsky, on the other hand, sounded amused. "You still have the opportunity to save them, you know. To help them. All you have to do…"_ /

* * *

' _… is to fall._ '

Clint's breaths were painful and wheezing. Was it the poison? Or his injuries? Both? He blinked stubbornly to rid his eyes from the blur threatening to take over them.

No crying, and absolutely no passing out.

Clint stared at the sky above him, straining his all to find the strength to do what he'd have to. Eventually he managed to continue crawling onwards. Towards the bitter inevitable.

He'd been a fighter for all his life. A survivor. But now, for the sake of his children, he'd give up.

* * *

Steve was fairly sure that he was breaking a lot of traffic rules while speeding through the streets of London. And he was having very, very difficult time with handling the left side traffic. But – shocking even himself – he realized that at the moment he didn't care.

What they knew thus far, based on what Natasha saw before the video feed Lutsky had been watching was cut, was that Clint had somehow made it to some sort of a rooftop and was on his way towards the edge.

Steve had no idea how long they'd been driving around, with far too little idea of where to actually look. The city was massive and although the elapsed time combined with Natasha's report ruled out some destinations it was like going through a haystack to find a needle. Still, maybe they'd be in a luck for once. The Captain tried to keep that hope alive even though each minute that passed with no sign of Clint…

Coming to a conclusion that phones would only slow them down, what was left of the team had switched to ear comms. Steve brushed his briefly before taking a steep turn to the right. He tried to ignore how a grim faced Laura, who was checking all promising looking rooftops, shivered a little. (Clint would probably kill him for this later if she didn't beat her husband to it. But then again, she wasn't exactly telling him to slow down.) "Any progress, Tasha?" There was no use in using code names when their enemy knew exactly who they were.

" _Lutsky's still unconscious._ "

"But alive?" Steve felt the need to make sure. He knew her temper, after all.

" _He's still valuable._ " They needed the criminal to be able to help Clint. But Natasha's tone revealed that as soon as they didn't…

" _And Clint?_ " Tony's voice was tight from guilt and stress. This nightmare would probably never stop haunting the billionaire.

" _The screen's still black._ "

Steve's heart sunk. Clint was also still unconscious, then. He blatantly refused to think of a darker alternative.

" _Well finally!_ " Tony's exclaim managed to catch Steve so off guard that he shivered. " _I got into the CCTV-system. Just… Give me a moment, yeah? This thing's got like… a million cameras, everywhere…_ "

It took all of Steve's self-control to not snap that time was exactly the thing they _didn't_ have. He squeezed the steering wheel so hard that his hands hurt. It was a miracle that he didn't break the whole thing.

Natasha muttered something _very_ unpleasant sounding in Russian.

Time dragged by incredibly slowly until finally, finally Tony spoke again. " _I got it! I found it! I've got the address!_ "

* * *

Natasha had been taught to show or experience no emotions. To never let anyone close enough to matter. To never let herself become compromised. And for a remarkably long time she succeeded in just that.

And then Clint Barton came into her life. Showing what it was like to have a friend, someone to count on, somewhere to belong. There were still some days when she hated him for it.

Today was one of those days.

Natasha's chest tightened and she unleashed a sharp breath when without a warning, the video feed came to life once more. Clint's eyes opened. She was a fool enough to feel a hint of relief until she realized that he was on the way towards the edge once again.

"Clint!" she snarled into the ear comm Lustky had been using to communicate with the Hawk. Trying, with the same stubbornness he'd shown time and time again. "Stop, you idiot! Laura's coming there! Just stop!"

Ice flowed through her veins when, without a warning and with a several horribly slow blinks, he did stop and seemed to slump down.

* * *

Clint tried. With absolutely all he had. But in the end his body gave up entirely a little over an arm's length from the edge. He collapsed to the unforgivingly hard and cold rooftop, blinking sluggishly. He didn't even have the strength to cry anymore.

He wasn't afraid to die, hadn't been since he was a kid in a circus. He hadn't been even when he ended up having far too many reasons to live. And he wasn't scared now, either. He just wished, from the bottom of his faltering heart, that _this_ would be enough of a show for Lutsky. That at least his children would be alright.

And he hoped that they'd be able to forgive him for this, somehow…

Clint was already drifting away when a very familiar, impossible voice reached his ears. Was he hallucinating? Or…? "Clint!"

* * *

Laura's heart nearly stopped when she first saw her husband. He lay there, absolutely still and horribly pale. He wasn't even trembling from shock anymore. His eyes were still halfway open but with the glassy, faraway look in them it was small comfort.

He was more than halfway gone.

"Clint!" She landed to his side so hard that her knees were bruised and had to blink a few times when tears filled her line of vision. Her hand wasn't steady when it brushed his face, gently begging him to stay with her. "Clint, honey, look at me! I need you to look at me."

Clint frowned and for a moment she wondered if he'd even heard her. Then, slowly, he fought a visibly hard battle to lift his chin enough to look at her. A nearly dreamy smile appeared to his face when he recognized her.

Laura smiled back, wiping her eyes with one hand. "Hey", she breathed out. "There you are." Whatever frail and desperate relief dared to rise inside her, however, was crushed swiftly and mercilessly.

Clint sighed, even if it had to hurt. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It was easy to see how hard he struggled to lift his hand to touch her but in the end the strain was too much. "Thanks…", he whispered, so quietly that she had to strain to catch the words. "… for coming to get me." The last syllable was barely out before his eyes fluttered closed.

And he slipped away.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: I know. I know. (winces, and dodges thrown objects) GOSH, let's hope that this can still have a at least somewhat happy ending!

Btw… BRUCE IS BACK! (beams) Poor mini-Hawks, though!

Soooo… Was that any good, at all? Something to be deleted? PLEASE, do leave your thoughts and rants to the box down below. (smirks sheepishly)

Until next time, ya all! I really hope that I'll see you there.

Take care!

* * *

Guest96: Thank gosh she's okay! But what about Clint? Is he going to die never knowing? (winces)

Btw, I LOVE Ilsa, too! Such a fantastic, kick ass female character! (BEAMS)

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time.

* * *

Guest: I'm absolutely overjoyed and flattered that you enjoyed it so much! (jumps with joy) We'll see what's up ahead… I really hope that you'll find the next one worth the wait!

Massive thank yous for the review!


	10. Hour 9

A/N: DANG! When I started typing this chapter… it sort of typed itself instead. (gawks) I don't remember the last time I would've completed a chapter this quickly. We'll see if that's a good thing or bad…

THANK YOU, so, so much, for the reviews, listings and support! It feels so good to have you guys taking this journey with me. (HUGS)

Awkay, because the cliffie I left you on was MEAN… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Hour 9

* * *

/ _Mason Warren was a determined man. When he wanted results he got them, no matter what the methods. Those results were so valuable that his IMF higher ups were more than happy to cover up the collateral damage that sometimes happened. True, he was a PR nightmare and they hated him, but the need for his services was greater than the distaste._

 _The death of Vlad Lutsky's son and the injury of William Brandt – from a bullet that came from Mason's gun, with several witnesses seeing his scuffle with Lutsky – were, however, almost too much. Eventually they came up with a solution. Mason became one of the higher ups after a couple of mission reports went missing. And as soon as William had recovered enough he was sent to a yet another mission. Out of sight, out of mind._

 _No one needed to know that Mason contacted an assassin by the name Black Widow and ordered her to take care of his problem permanently._

 _William disappeared from radar after that. Mason imagined that the problem had indeed been handled until the younger man returned eight months later, battered, injured and with several new scars. By then it didn't matter. Mason was too high in the food chain to be touched._

 _Lutsky was a far more straightforward case. The man was locked up into a notorious prison, where… accidents happened on daily basis. Mason tipped off a couple of right people and only days later news spoke of a dangerous inmate having been stabbed to death._

 _For many, many years Mason imagined that his problems had been taken care off. He got arrogant. Until he came home from work to find a dead woman from his bathtub. She was Regina Ingles, who was with him and Brandt in the team that tracked down Lutsky._

 _Moments later his phone rang. The caller was a ghost from the past. "_ I take it you found my little surprise. _" Lutsky sounded murderous, and very much alive. "_ You can't even begin to imagine how much I'd like to cut you to tiny pieces. But maybe, if you play your cards right, you're marginally more useful alive… _"_

 _Which was how Mason ended up knocking a certain door not much later. "Afternoon, Dr. Banner", he greeted when the door opened and went on as soon as they were inside. "I'm director Mason Warren. I'm here to escort you to the safe house."_ /

* * *

Tony was used to being the one who did something. Being helpless, being left to the sidelines… He absolutely _hated_ that. As it was he was stuck on waiting for news, not even the CCTV-network covering where Clint and the others were.

Seconds, then minutes, dragged by. Until eventually his ear comm came to life. Steve sounded horribly exhausted. " _We found him._ "

Tony gulped laboriously. He didn't like that tone of a voice, at all. "That's… That's a good thing, right?" He waited for as long as he could bear. "How is he?" He was getting incredibly annoyed with the silence.

Steve sighed heavily. " _Tony, Clint… He'd been stabbed twice. And… It looked bad._ "

Tony nodded twice. Slowly. Tried to process what he was hearing. "Okay… Okay…" He wiped his eyes, hating how moist they felt. "Just… Get him to a hospital, and keep that idiot alive." His voice broke and he was really happy that there was no one in the private jet to see him. "Because… I'm on my way to get the antidote. And he'd better be alive when I get back."

If Clint gave up now… Just when things were shifting slowly towards the better… He wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive the archer. Or himself.

* * *

At first everything was happening far too quickly. Then in slowed motion. Clint losing consciousness… Fighting desperately to stem the flow of blood… The paramedics arriving… Laura handled it all in a strange, numb daze. In a state of shock. She was grateful that Steve was there to help her explain the impossibly complicated, absurd situation because she had no idea where to even begin.

They allowed her to the ambulance after some negotiations, clearly seeing that they didn't have much of a choice. She clung to Clint's hand tightly, desperately, ignoring furiously the fact that he wasn't responding to her touch. She held on to the love of her life and the father of her children because letting him go was unthinkable.

And then, far sooner than she'd braced herself for it, he was taken away. Of course she knew, logically, that he was in safe hands. It didn't make the forced separation any easier.

Clint needed surgery. She wouldn't have had to be a medical professional to know that. But he wasn't stable enough for that with the unpredictable poison coursing through his veins. He'd have to hang on until Tony arrived with the antidote. She could only hope that he was stubborn enough.

She jumped from startle when a hand was laid to her shoulder. She didn't manage to relax much after meeting Steve's eyes. He seemed to be holding it together only marginally better than she was. "They're doing everything they can. He'll be alright." If only the soldier had sounded more convinced…

Laura sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. Feeling infuriatingly defeated. "He… He thinks that I'm dead, Steve." And she didn't dare to even guess what it was doing to her husband.

* * *

Natasha breathed in deep while putting away her ear comm. Slowly, her back turned to her prisoner. She listened to Lutsky fidgeting, smelling his sweat. And blood. He'd fallen on his face a couple of times with his chair, attempting to break free. She helped.

" _Well?_ " Lutsky tried to hide it but she heard it. The tremor, the despair of a wounded and trapped wild animal. " _Is he dead?_ "

Natasha turned towards him. " _No, he isn't. He's on the way to a hospital. The antidote will be there soon._ "

Lutsky's face fell. Only for a fraction of a second. But for just long enough for her to see.

Natasha's eyes were pure lava and steel as she sat to the man's lap. Looking every bit like the assassin – the experienced killer – she once was. This was the Black Widow talking. " _You should pray that he survives_ ", she hissed. She gained a hint of pleasure at the way the man shivered. She reacted to that scent of fear like a bloodhound. " _Because if he doesn't… I don't care how much I've supposedly changed, because I haven't forgotten my skills. If he doesn't make it, I won't stop until you're begging me to kill you._ "

Lutsky knew that he was done for. She could see it in his eyes. He sighed heavily, his whole body sagging. " _You should've just let him die. Because if he actually survives… He's never going to forgive you._ "

Natasha's eyes flashed and narrowed. Her chest tightened uncomfortably. " _What do you mean by that_?"

" _Did you really imagine that it's over?_ "

* * *

Mason Warren was in the safe house with Bruce Banner and the children when he received a message. Just one word. It was more than enough.

' _BOOM_ '

"Director Warren?" Bruce had a frown on his face. The well learned mistrust ran deep. "Is everything alright?"

Mason perfected his most convincing smile. "Of course. But I have something urgent I have to take care of." He got up from the couch, trying not to pay attention to the sounds of children playing. "Remember the instructions I gave you and you'll be safe." They both heard a phone ringing. "And always use a safe line."

If it wasn't for the phone call Bruce would've most definitely asked more. As it was the man gave him a stiff nod, then sauntered to the kitchen to pick up. "Hello?"

Mason made his way to what he considered a safe distance from the house. He also ensured that he didn't see it anymore. Then, swallowing hard, he took his phone, inserted a code and pressed a button. Seconds later the building he just left exploded, the sound deafening even to where he stood. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he began to realize what he'd done.

Did he really just…?

Before he had the time to finish that thought he heard the clap of high heels. He never got the chance to react before a knife was pressed against his stomach. His eyes widened and all of him tensed up. "I did everything…!"

"Yes, you did." It was impossible to tell if the hissing female voice held a distinguishable accent or not. "Except for one thing. You never paused to ask yourself who was the mother of Lutsky's son."

* * *

Due to Clint's condition he wasn't allowed visitors. And due to the circumstances there'd been strict orders that only the hospital staff was allowed to enter his room. Two security guards stood by the door, checking the ID of everyone going in.

MD April Thompson's heart was pounding furiously and it took absolutely all her self-control to keep the panic from showing. She could only hope that the guards took the grim look on her face as a professional one while she showed them her ID-card. One of them, a large bald man with sharp blue eyes, looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "Long day, doctor?"

She sighed heavily, trying to keep it from shuddering. "And getting longer." Well, at least that much was honest.

The guard still didn't appear fully convinced. But after a few long moments she was granted access. As soon as the door closed and she saw the patient she froze, feeling cold all over. The words that were hissed at her over the phone a few hours earlier echoed in her ears, taunting her. It came with a picture of a crying child.

/ _"If this patient arrives, alive… You finish him. Or you'll never see more of your son than that picture."_ /

Clint Barton slept on – heavily medicated and horribly injured – while her trembling hands took a syringe from her pocket. They didn't become any steadier while she administrated the substance through his I.V. line. She tried to tell herself that he was a goner, anyway. That while he most likely didn't stand the slightest chance her son still did. It didn't make her feel any better.

She felt sick to her stomach while she switched off his heart monitor. It would've started wailing soon and she couldn't risk attention being drawn into the room. Not before…

April closed her eyes. Unable to bear facing the consequences of her actions. "I'm sorry", she whispered, her voice breaking. She would've wanted to grab the man's hand, to offer him at least that tiny bit of comfort. But in the end she was too much of a coward even for that. "I'm so sorry, Clint." With those words she turned her back on him and left the room.

Leaving him to die alone.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: O-kay… So… You guys wanna throw something at me, don't you…? I wouldn't blame you… That was MEAN.

Soooo… Thoughts? Comments? Threats…? PLEASE, do leave those to the box down below!

I'll just… you know, run, now. Until next time, guys! I really hope that I'll see you all there. The story's almost over, now…!

Take care!

* * *

Guest (1): LOL! I take that as a huge compliment. Awww, I love typing so much that the pleasure's all mine! (BEAMS) I really hope that you'll keep enjoying the ride.

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest (2): Mmm, we'll see… It's a really sweet thought, though! I LOVE those two.

Huge thank yous for the review!


	11. Hour 10

A/N: Here we are again! Time to face a new hour of this story. And to see if Clint's still hanging in there, somehow…

THANK YOU, so very much, for your amazing reviews, listings and support! It means a lot that you guys are taking this journey with me, ya know? (hugs) We'll see what the final steps will be like…

Awkay, because somehow I've got a feeling that you want a continuation from the horrid cliffie… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Hour 10

* * *

The pain was intense enough to bring Clint back to consciousness. Despite all the drugs in his system. Despite his injuries.

His eyes flew open, wide from panic, when he felt like someone was twisting a knife in his chest. He clawed as the aching part desperately, actually able to feel his irregular heartbeat. He tried to scream but his breathing didn't feel right, either, despite oxygen mask sitting on his face. He whimpered and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to will his body into relaxing.

What… What was happening? Was this the poison, or…?

His confused musings were cut when the pain kept intensifying. His heart was fluttering and faltering irregularly. Trying desperately to keep going but losing the fight.

His eyes darted around frantically, seeking for either help or an explanation. But he was all alone. And the only sound he could hear was his own heartbeat. And apparently no one had bothered to leave a nurse's call button for him. They'd probably imagined that he wouldn't be able to use it, anyway.

It was almost funny, in a horribly bitter way. He was in a hospital. Surrounded by machinery and medical professionals. And he was dying alone, unable to do a thing to get help.

That was when he noticed a small, metallic dish on the tiny table beside his bed. It contained used supplies. Someone must've forgotten it there. He bit his lip, so hard that he tasted blood.

If he'd be able to grab it and throw…

For a few seconds adrenaline sharpened his senses and he heard voices from the hallway. Hospital staff or Lutsky's men…? It didn't matter. What mattered that there were people nearby. And this could be his only chance.

The agony intensified still and Clint fought to breathe for several seconds before he could even think of moving his arm. The limb was ridiculously heavy and he fumbled several times before he finally had a decent grip on the dish. He had no idea if he'd be able to manage an actual throw. But he was going to try.

With what seemed to be the last of his strength he lifted the item and let it fly. It was a pathetically weak toss and he had no idea if it'd actually carry even something so light all the way to the door. He lost consciousness before he found out.

* * *

Outside the room Dr. Callie Sloan, who'd just breathed a sigh of relief at a call that the antidote was on the way, approached the security personnel keeping watch. Soon it'd be the time to start prepping her patient for a much needed surgery. She just hoped that he'd be in a good enough condition to make it through. "Did the cardio specialist I consulted stop by already?"

The bigger of the guards nodded. "Dr. Thompson came…" The man checked his notes. "… forty-five minutes ago." He appeared confused. "Just out of curiosity, is there any reason no medical personnel has visited his room since? I was under the impression that the guy's in a critical condition."

That definitely made alarm bells ring in Dr. Sloan's head. Her eyes widened. "What?" A horrible feeling rushing through her, she checked the patient records. What she encountered made blood freeze into her veins.

Dr. Thompson had updated the patient's condition from 'highly critical' to 'stable'.

"Dr. Sloan?"

That was when they heard the thud, coming from the room. On a regular hospital hallway it would've drowned into the noise. But there it was deafening.

"Get Dr. Thompson here, now", she ordered before barging into the room, hoping against all hope that she wasn't too late already.

* * *

For most of her life Natasha had been taught to restrain her emotions. That caring about someone was a dangerous disadvantage. But no amount of Red Room handling had managed to erase the fact that deep down she was still a human being. Clint Barton was the first one to prove that much. Since then his interference had caused a chain reaction and now there were so many people she'd let too close that it scared her. Even if she would've never admitted as much under any amount of torture.

Now Clint was fighting for his life. And the man's kids, and Bruce… Natasha had no idea how to process it all. She'd been taught to suppress her emotions, not what to do when she couldn't.

She checked the time yet again, noticing that a few more precious minutes had crawled by. How long was it from when she called Bruce a warning? She could only hope that he and the kids were alright. Even if logic told her that Lutsky only revealed the information he did because he imagined that it was already too late.

And then Natasha's phone rang. She closed her eyes and counted to three before picking up. "Bruce?" She didn't like how her voice sounded but decided that it didn't matter.

The first thing coming through the line was ragged breathing. " _We… We made it out, all of us_ ", Bruce announced, his voice hoarse. " _Barely. But we did._ "

Natasha buried her face to one hand in order to compose herself and keep it together. It took some time before she trusted her voice and even then she refused to open her eyes. "Code Green?" Because she knew how much The Other Guy loved explosions.

" _It's… a struggle. But… I think I'm good._ " Bruce sounded shaken but not dangerously so. " _You?_ "

At the genuine concern in his voice Natasha couldn't help it anymore. Her chest tightened and she bit her lip to keep a whimper of ache from escaping. With an angry motion she wiped away the two treacherous tears that rolled.

" _Nat…_ "

The Black Widow pulled herself together and opened her eyes. "Just… Look after yourself. And the kids." She didn't want to hear apologies or empty words of comfort.

" _You stay safe, too._ " It sounded like there was a lot more he wanted to say but now definitely wasn't the time. " _And… When I see you again, there's a lot we need to talk about._ "

Natasha gritted her teeth. "Yeah, there is." Because there was quite a bit she wanted to say, too. She swallowed the words. "Bye." She hung up without giving him the chance to speak out a word, not knowing how to process the hurricane of emotions.

Until she did. Her eyes flashed dangerously. After giving herself a few more seconds she headed towards Lutsky, who seemed to be on the verge of regaining consciousness.

* * *

Laura wasn't entirely sure how many times she'd almost lost her husband. It wasn't like she would've forgotten even a single one of those horrible phone calls from Natasha, because they were imprinted to hear mind permanently. She just didn't want to count.

Sitting at home, unable to do a thing while her husband was in some far away country, horribly injured… It was torture. She'd imagine that it couldn't get any worse. Until this.

Clint was right there, in that same building. Only walls away. And she wasn't even allowed to see him.

Was it any wonder that eventually it got too much?

She sent Steve to the cafeteria with some money, begging him to go and get her one of those horrible banana muffins. Because she needed one, desperately. He seemed confused but complied. He didn't accept the money, though.

As soon as the Captain was away Laura took a deep breath. Then headed towards where she knew her husband to be. Of course she knew that he wasn't allowed visitors but maybe she'd be able to sweet talk them into making an exception.

Laura froze as soon as she entered the hallway and saw the flurry of activity around one of the rooms. She wasn't sure how but she could tell immediately that it was Clint's room. And all that fit into her consciousness were the two words a doctor shouted out.

"Code blue!"

* * *

Tony was all too aware that getting the antidote took him too long. And his scientists warned him that absolutely nothing was certain until they'd see if it actually worked. They'd done what they could with the sample of Clint's blood. The rest was up to the archer.

Tony had seen, far too many times, how much Clint was able to recover from. He absolutely refused to believe that it'd end like this. So he clung to desperate hope, all the way through the painfully long seeming flight.

The fact that traffic was slow, for once, was the first bit of good news since he discovered that there was an antidote. He gritted his teeth as the car sped through London. Soon the hospital was already looming in the horizon.

 _See, Feathers? Almost there. Now be as infuriatingly stubborn as you always are and hang in there. Or I'll kick your sorry ass._

Tony sped into the building almost before the car stopped. From Steve's… confusing text messages he had a vague idea of where to go. What he found, however, froze him to the spot.

Steve stood there, looking so miserable, pale and defeated that it chilled Tony. The Captain wasn't crying but his eyes seemed suspiciously moist. Slumped to a nearby chair was Laura, her face buried to both hands. Her whole body was shaking from soundless sobs.

"Steve? Laura?" Tony didn't recognize his own voice. He took a step forward although he wasn't sure if he could trust his feet. "What's going on?"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh… crap! (winces) Okay, so… The kids and Bruce are okay. But… Is this SERIOUSLY ending on a tragic note – just when things were turning for the better?!

What's the verdict, folks? PLEASE, do leave your comments, thoughts and rants to the box down below! I'd LOVE to hear from you.

Until next time, ya guys! Gosh, this story's already close to ending. (gawks) I really hope that I'll see you then.

Take care!

* * *

Nightshade: I know, right? (winces) Poor Clint! Poor Barton family! Gosh, let's hope that they'll all be okay.

Monumental thank yous for the review! Until next time.


	12. Hour 11

A/N: PHEW! I'm on a bit of a mad schedule right now. But thank gosh I was able to update today! After the previous cliffie I would've hated leaving you waiting for long… (winces)

THANK YOU, a million times, for your amazing reviews, listings and support! You have no idea how happy they make me. (HUGS) I'm thrilled that you've joined this insane ride.

Awkay, because time's sort of ticking on… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Hour 11

* * *

Natasha wasn't entirely sure how long had passed. Her hands were covered in dried blood while she sat absolutely still, her eyes harder than steel as they stared at the red-stained, barely recognizable face of Vlad Lutsky. Her phone kept ringing, over and over and over again, a sound soon followed by a storm of text message alerts. She noticed none of it.

She kept watch. Not daring to look away for even a second. That man had already come back to haunt her once. She'd make sure that this time he'd be sent to a hole where he wouldn't be able to crawl out of. Until then she wouldn't let him out of her sight for even a second. She wouldn't even blink.

Sounds of steps somehow managed to break through her storm of thoughts. Instantly on guard, wary of Lutsky's men, she let one hand slide towards where her knife was. Instead of a threat, however, Nick Fury entered the room. She saw him stop from the corner of her eye and focused fully on her target once more while he did the same.

The silence stretched. "Is he still alive?" Fury sounded every little bit as exhausted as she felt. It'd been a ridiculously draining half a day.

Natasha nodded, not in the mood for talking.

"Good." Fury didn't sound fully pleased, but did he ever? "The alternative would've meant far too much paperwork."

Natasha didn't react at all until at least five more men barged into the room. She tensed up and didn't relax even after realizing that they worked for Fury. Was it really such a surprise that after a day like this she didn't know who to trust? The two of them watched how the others dragged Lutsky away.

"How badly was he injured?" Fury inquired.

"Not badly enough." When had truer words been spoken? Natasha's eyes narrowed at the heavily unconscious criminal. "But he'll never be the same man again."

"Good."

It was around then Natasha was in the frame of mind to realize that something was wrong. Her eyebrows furrowed as her gaze examined the one eyed man. "What's going on?"

The look on Fury's face made her stomach knot painfully. The sensation was nothing compared to the reaction his following words provoked. "You haven't heard?" The man gritted his teeth and hesitated uncharacteristically. "It's Barton…"

* * *

The world around her barely made sense to Laura as she sat on one of those horribly uncomfortable hospital chairs, legs pulled against her chest and staring vacantly at a wall. Eventually her gaze settled on a clock. She blinked slowly, twice, watching as seconds and minutes ticked by.

"Mrs. Barton?" Turning her head towards the sound of the voice, she found the same sad faced doctor who fought to save Clint's life. She didn't try to memorize her name. The less details she remembered of this the better. She barely registered that the doctor went on. "I understand that you don't feel like answering any questions right now. But… There's something I need to know." The woman gave her a few moments. "Are you aware of any heart problems in your husband's medical history?"

Laura stared for a few seconds. Struggling to comprehend, despite her own medical training. Then shook her head, slowly. It said a lot about her state of mind that such a question didn't arouse her suspicions.

"Alright." The doctor gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, even if they both knew that it wouldn't do a lot of good. "If you need anything, at all…"

Laura nodded, unwilling to convince herself into uttering a word. Once the doctor left the room became unnaturally quiet once more. Apart from the ticking clock and the finally somewhat steady beeps of a heart monitor.

They lost Clint for almost four full minutes. Not much of a surprise, considering his feeble condition, but it shook Laura to her core. And then, just as they had him back, he started having seizures and they came dangerously close to losing him again.

He wasn't stable at all yet, as they'd begrudgingly let her know. Technically she shouldn't have been allowed into the room. But she could be as stubborn as her husband when the situation called for it.

And Clint… By some miracle he was still fighting. Still hanging on. He hadn't left her yet. And she wasn't planning on letting him go.

Laura sighed and took her husband's hand. It was too warm and clammy from fever. But when she moved her fingers she felt his pulse. Still there. "You're not leaving me, is that understood?" It took a few seconds before she realized that the words came from her. She tightened her grip on him as much as she dared to. "I've seen what you're able to recover from and I'm not letting my brother take you away from me." She wiped her eyes with her free hand and was surprised to find moisture although she shouldn't have been. "I'm not letting you go", she repeated with resolve no living being would've dared to question.

Clint was heavily medicated and deeply unconscious. So the fingers tightening around hers was most likely a trick of imagination. But it nonetheless offered her a brush of much needed comfort.

Less than half a day earlier everything had been… well, as alright as things ever could be in their insane lives. Since then it'd been revealed that her brother was alive, after all, and that her husband was dying slowly. And then… then _this_. It'd been a ridiculously bad day.

There, with no one but Clint for company, Laura finally allowed herself to crack, at least a little. With tears pooling into her eyes she brought a hand to her mouth. And broke into a bout of hysterical giggles which soon turned into sobs.

* * *

Steve and Tony – uncharacteristically – didn't protest much when Laura told them to step outside for a bit. They were all tense, shaken and worried. In short, they were in a desperate need of a break. The two of them didn't go far from the building, though. They were planning on being there to hear the second the medical staff reached a verdict over whether Clint was finally stable enough to be operated on.

Steve gave the billionaire a pointed look when the man pulled out a cigarette. Tony shrugged. "It's this or something I'd regret even more later on", he pointed out. He refused to look towards the Captain while he inhaled several foul, nauseating drags of smoke. "Besides, it's not like this is the worst thing I've done today." And just like that the elephant in the room had been addressed.

Steve stiffened and for a while Tony worried that perhaps he'd poked too sharply, too soon. It took a considerable amount of time before the man finally spoke. "What you did to Clint… I'm not sure if it can be forgiven." Coming from the Captain, who was the very picture of honor, those words truly stung.

Tony's jawline tightened painfully. "I couldn't just let them kill Pepper!" he snapped, those horrific, sickening memories making his stomach turn even more violently than the smoke did. His eyes blurred but he blinked it away stubbornly. His hand wasn't steady while he pulled in a couple of drags. "I… I had to choose, and… I hated it."

Another smothering silence followed. "Just… Tell me this." Steve's tone, at least, was calmer, although the man was still tense. "If I made a decision like that… If I betrayed a friend to save someone I love… Would you be able to forgive me?"

Tony didn't deliver an answer because he had none, instead he focused on smoking.

It says a lot about the thick air between them that they both shivered when they received a text almost simultaneously. Tony was, quite understandably, faster with his phone. "It's Laura", he announced as soon as he read the words. He swallowed, still feeling queasy. He shouldn't have smoked. "They're starting to prep Clint for surgery."

* * *

Dr. Callie Sloan read the patient's charts a one more time, then stifled a yawn and rubbed her face roughly.

"Go to the breakroom and get some sleep before you doze off standing up." Dr. Alex O'Malley, one of the hospital's best trauma surgeons, gave her a meaningful look and a small smile while making notes. "My team and I got this. He's in safe hands."

Dr. Sloan sighed. "I know." She glanced towards Clint, who seemed incredibly pale and ridiculously small in the hospital bed. "It's just… That guy's been through too much already."

"I know." Dr. O'Malley appeared a lot more solemn. "Are the bloodwork results ready yet?"

Dr. Sloan shook her head, feeling shivers. "But I'd be surprised if his potassium levels weren't through the roof at the time." To imagine that he'd been attacked at the hospital, where he was supposed to be safe… It made her sick.

"Have they found April yet?"

"No." Dr. Sloan folded her arms tightly, feeling ridiculously cold all of a sudden. "I just want to know what's going on with her. What made her do something like that."

Dr. O'Malley sighed heavily. "Might take a while before we get any answers", he mused, finishing up with taking notes. "She's probably long gone by now."

* * *

Laura would've wanted to observe her husband's operation but knew that it'd be a big mistake. So, instead, she planned on getting some fresh air. It'd take a while before Clint would be out of the theater, after all.

She was just making her way down the stairs, planning on calling her kids as soon as she could, when she bumped into someone. "Sorry! I wasn't looki…" Her sentence was cut short when she saw the woman, or rather what was hidden to the surgeon's uniform. It was a handgun. Her heart thudded while her slightly widened eyes swept towards the other's nametag – Thompson, A, MD – then moved on to the woman's face.

/ _"Are you aware of any heart problems in your husband's medical history?"_ /

It actually only took a few seconds. But as soon as their eyes met they both knew. The chain reaction which followed was dramatic.

Laura reached out a hand, grabbing the other woman's shirt. Her hold wasn't firm enough. With the power of fear and despair the teary eyed doctor pushed her, most likely only intending the get some distance between them. And forgetting that they stood at the top of stairs.

Laura's balance took no more than that nudge to break. She gasped, the sound unnaturally loud in the otherwise eerily quiet and empty part of the building. And she fell.

* * *

Clint was only barely in a condition that the surgery could be considered. His heart rate was having severe difficulties with staying even and his breathing became an even more serious issue than before as one of his lungs began to collapse. It became an emergency procedure, in the highest meaning of the word.

In their haste the surgical team made one critical error. They didn't wait up for the guards who'd been faithfully keeping an eye on Clint's hospital room. Which was why less than ten minutes into the operation Dr. April Thompson was able to walk into the theater, a gun in her hand.

* * *

TBC

* * *

IN CASE YOU'RE CONFUSED: Yup, Dr. April Thompson is the same person who delivered Clint the mystery substance which made him crash a couple of chapters ago (potassium, as we've now learned).

* * *

A/N: A one more cliffie, guys…! (groans) Will everyone be okay? And how FRUSTRATING is it that a total failure of hospital security is what may cost Clint (AND Laura) his life?! If only Fury would've known about the attack and been able to leave his men there…! (The team has no idea of what was done to Clint at the hospital, after all.)

PLEASE, do leave your rants and comments to the box down below! I'd LOVE to hear from ya. Even if I'm a bit scared of what you may have to say after THIS…

Until next and (gasps) almost last time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll all join in for that one.

Take care!

* * *

Guest (1): I'm REALLY happy to hear that you've had such a good time with this one! (BEAMS) We'll see just how this whole tale ends… I really hope what comes next is worth the wait!

Monumental thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest (2): Hearing that makes me INSANELY happy! (BEAMS) It makes me particularly happy that you think I've done the characters justice. We'll see what's up next…

Gigantic thank yous for the review!


	13. Hour 12

A/N: OH MY GOSH, it's been long! (WINCES) FAR too long. And for that I'm really, really sorry! But FINALLY this story is back to be completed. Hooray?

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, love and support! Without you this story would've never crawled its way back to life. So THANK YOU! (HUGS)

Awkay, because it's high time to get on with the story… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride, especially since you've been waiting for this one for so long.

* * *

Hour 12

* * *

 _… tick … tock … tick … tock … tick … tock … tick … tock …_

* * *

Clint opened his eyes with a loud gasp. For a moment he could only stare upwards, the whole world spinning before his eyes. Trees. Clouds. A blue sky. And slowly it was all coming back to him.

Father had been drinking, again. Five days and counting, now. When the man almost broke his arm Barney finally grabbed him and they ran.

This was their very own spot. A small opening in the middle of a thick, ancient forest. A place no one else in the world knew existed. The only place in the world from where their father wouldn't find them. Not that their parents would've bothered looking…

"Squirt?" Barney nudged at his shoulder. "Your arm still hurting?"

Clint shook his head. Sunlight had dried the tears to his cheeks, and his skin itched. "Nah, not anymore." Of course it did. But he'd had worse. He blinked slowly, twice. "I just… I had a weird dream."

Barney didn't ask. Perhaps the older boy didn't care. It took at least two minutes before his brother spoke. "You're too old for those stupid dreams, Squirt."

Clint said nothing. Instead he focused on the sky once more, deep in thought. A few moments ticked by until he saw a beautiful hawk. It floated past – high above but close enough to be seen properly – majestic and surreal, like a waken dream. It emitted a sharp, commanding cry that seemed to echo everywhere.

Clint smiled, even though it hurt his facial bruises and split lip.

* * *

 _… tick … tock … tick … tock … tick … tock … tick …_

* * *

Flying… For a few treacherous seconds Laura actually felt like she could fly. Air swooshed by her hungrily as she crashed through, her arms flailing like those of a bird rising to its wings. Then, swiftly and deviously, flight changed to a fall. There wasn't much of a difference, really.

Laura's lips opened but she couldn't produce a sound. She stared at the painfully bright lights above, her eyes wide. And then she landed.

Curious, really, how for a few seconds afterwards she could still feel herself flying, until her brain finally caught up.

"I've got you… I've got you." Steve sounded out of breath, if it was just about anyone else she would've said startled. "I've got you."

It took Laura longer than she could've afforded to gather her wits enough to remember the danger. She could've sworn that she heard a clock ticking as she looked at Steve, her eyes hard and terrified all at once. "There's… Steve, I just saw a doctor with a gun. She pushed me." She didn't sound hysterical, only furiously determined. She had a lot in common with her husband. "She's going after Clint. We've got to stop her."

Steve didn't waste time on questioning her. She could feel how he kept a worried eye on her as they dashed up the stairs, then to the hallway which followed. And they froze – only the fact that she was the mom of small children and he was Steve keeping them from swearing out of frustration.

The doctor was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

 _… tick … tock … tick … tock … tick … tock …_

* * *

Dr. April Thompson decided that she'd become a doctor when she was six years old and had to watch her best friend die in a hit and run accident. She swore to herself that the next time she saw someone in such a situation, she wouldn't be helpless. When she eventually gave her oath she meant every single word.

Entering an operating theater with a gun in her hand definitely wasn't a part of the plan.

The surgical team hadn't even had the time to open up Clint. He lay there, surrounded by highly trained people who were trying their hardest to save his life. Unconscious, helpless.

And although April knew that this was the only way to save her child she wanted desperately to break down into tears.

It took a long time before anyone even noticed her. They were focused on their patient, as they were supposed to be. They greeted the sight of her with almost disturbing silence. Stared, eyes wide, a couple of them taking a protective step closer to the dying man.

"April…"

"I'm sorry." She had no idea what to say. But that… At least that was true. "I'm so sorry…!"

"April." One of the doctors, Alex O'Malley, took a cautious step forward. "Do you see the oxygen he needs to breathe? If you fire a gun here… It may lead to a disaster. Are you really willing to take such a risk?"

"Then don't make me shoot." April didn't recognize her voice, or herself for the matter. It felt like she was floating outside her own body. "Not a single move, and I won't. All you have to do is stay absolutely still."

"Please, don't do this." The trembling, begging voice came from a painfully young nurse. Tears were running down the woman's cheeks. "Don't… Don't make us responsible. Don't make us…"

"You're responsible for this, or you're responsible for killing my son!" she shrieked, with the despair and rage of a mother lion protecting their young. Everyone and everything froze. Everything but the clock, ticking unnaturally loudly somewhere at her right. April nodded hysterically, her head spinning. "Good, good. Just… Just stay still. Stay still, and let time take its course."

"He's already received the antidote", Alex pointed out softly. His eyes were scared and sad.

"He's still dying. You rushed him to a surgery before you could be sure he can take it because you couldn't wait." April pointedly ignored looking at the patient – _Clint, Clint, Clint_ , her mind chimed unhelpfully. "Even if the antidote would be working, and there's a high chance it won't with how weak he is right now… His time is running out. All we need to do is wait."

* * *

 _… tick … tock … tick … tock … tick …_

* * *

A pair of disbelieving, even annoyed eyes stared at Laura. "So… Allow me to clarify. You're telling me that someone, a doctor, managed to bring a firearm into this establishment…"

"I'd tell you, again, to check the security footage. But we don't have enough time for that." Laura was positively seething, and her heart was hammering at such speed that she feared it might jump out of her chest. "My… My husband, he's in a theater! And she's headed there…"

"Laura." Steve had never looked quite so pale before. His expression betrayed nothing but his eyes were a different story. His hand trembled ever so slightly as he moved it away from his ear comm. "Clint's security team… They can't get to him."

* * *

 _… tick … tock … tick … tock …_

* * *

The loud banging on the door and the voices floating from the other side weren't quite enough to drown out the sound of the ticking clock.

Dr. Alex O'Malley knew that he was losing his patient. And there was nothing he could do about it. "Stay out!" he risked shouting. "She… She's holding a gun, and I don't want her to pull the trigger on accident. If you come in you may startle her."

The banging stopped. There were snarls of frustration and objection. But no one was trying to get in anymore.

April choked out a shuddering breath. Tears were running down her cheeks. "Thank you", she whispered, and actually seemed to mean it.

The ticking continued. Alex couldn't stand it anymore. "You're killing him…"

"Not a move." April was crying even harder. Bitter tears of regret and immense sorrow. "And not a word."

Alex did as he was told because the gun gave him no other choice. Waiting. His heart was pounding and breaking.

And just when he thought that it couldn't get any worse… A woman's anguished voice carried through the door. " _Clint!_ "

* * *

 _… tick … tock … tick …_

* * *

The people around Laura were telling her to stop. That she might make things worse. She couldn't even hear them.

"Please…! Please…" She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, by some miracle managing to keep the threatening tears at bay. "His name… His name is Clint Francis Barton. He's my husband… and a father of three kids." Her shaking hand traveled to her stomach, still flat enough to hide the secret. "Soon… Soon a dad of four, and… I never even got the chance to tell him…" She trailed off, her voice breaking miserably.

Nothing happened. Not that Laura would've been expecting miracles, but… Her self-control finally broke and she whimpered until she bit her lip, hard.

"His kids… They're waiting… waiting for him to come home. They need him. I need him." Laura bit her lip again. She was trembling so badly that it was a miracle she could stand. She _hated_ begging but there was pretty much nothing she wouldn't do… "Please… Please don't take him away from us. Don't…" Her voice broke once more and this time she couldn't find it anymore.

The sound of a clock ticking kept haunting her. Filled her aching head. The door keeping her away from Clint remained closed.

* * *

 _… tick … tock …_

* * *

April felt sick to her stomach and she actually gagged, her knees dangerously weak. She wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. But what was there to say?

Everyone jumped when the room's machinery's bleeping changed. Announcing a decline in Clint's vitals. His pulse and blood pressure…

"April, please…!" Alex begged a one more time.

And then a shrill, continuous beep drowned out his voice, along with the quite possibly nonexistent ticking. On the monitor's screen the lines symbolling Clint's vitals were nothing but a straight line. The nurse stood beside him couldn't smother a loud, bitter sob.

Alex moved. April's hold on the firearm tightened as she shook her head, feeling lightheaded. "No", she managed.

And so they waited. And waited. April had no idea how long – time lost all meaning. Until the still weeping nurse finally switched off the heart monitor, a pained look on her face. It was then it all really, honestly hit April. What she'd done. What she'd become.

The gun slipped from her hold and clattered loudly to the floor as she fell to her knees, all strength and will deserting her.

The woman outside the door kept calling out in a heartbroken voice. The words barely reached her. " _… please! …_ "

* * *

 _… tick …_

* * *

Clint gasped as his eyes flew open. And groaned, instantly regretting it. The gray, filthy ceiling above him spun dangerously as he fought tooth and nail to hang on to consciousness.

"Hold still, kid." Buck Chisholm's voice seemed to come through a wall. "You've gotten yourself beaten pretty good."

A weird dream, that's all…

Still dazed, in increasing pain and confused, Clint allowed his head and eyes to move. His gaze strayed to a window. It was so stained that he could barely see through. But nonetheless he could've sworn that he was able to distinguish the outline of a majestic hawk, gliding through the sky.

Clint smiled, even though it hurt his facial bruises and split lip. Then his eyes slipped closed. And he floated.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: My dear gosh, that was painful…! Poor Clint! And poor, POOR Laura! Such a bleak little chapter. But will this story have a bleak ending?

 **Only an epilogue left to go, guys!**

So… Was that any good? Worth the wait? I'd LOVE to hear your opinion, especially since it's been AGES. (winces apologetically)

Awkay, I've REALLY gotta get going, now. Until next time! I really hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!

* * *

Guest21: I'm insanely happy that you've enjoyed the ride thus far so much! (BEAMS) I really hope that the next, LONG awaited chapter turns out worth the wait.

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	14. Epilogue

A/N: OH MY GOSH…! Guess what, guys? This story's coming to an end. (gawks, then wipes eyes) I seriously can't believe it! BUT, before getting to the actual business…

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings, love and support. It's thank to you this feathery adventure has continued all the way to the end! (hugs)

Awkay, before I get disgustingly sentimental… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

It felt like a strange dream. Laura couldn't recognize the hauntingly beautiful song playing in the background. It didn't matter. She closed her eyes and sighed happily as she leaned her head against Clint's chest. Instantly his familiar scent filled her head.

"You're purring", Clint teased her.

"Shut up and let me enjoy this", she murmured.

Clint sighed and tightened his hold on her. It reminded her, once again, that this was borrowed time. A fleeting moment.

The sensation of movement inside her belly caught her attention. As though feeling it as well Clint placed his hand tenderly against the swell. Unable to resist the temptation she covered his hand the best as she could with her smaller one. His skin felt warm and solid, reassuring. The baby seemed to agree because the squirming changed to far more pleasant little flutters.

"Enough with this stalling", she decided. She nuzzled his cheek with her nose. "Go back inside. Then we'll have all the time in the world."

Clint kissed the tip of her nose with a wicked grin. "Yes, ma'am." And so he was walking away from her, yet again. Just this once more.

Memories of that day at the hospital flowed through Laura like a tsunami, making her feel sick although it'd been five months.

When the doors opened, and the sight of Clint laying lifelessly on that table met her… Laura's own heart definitely skipped several beats. She didn't notice how the previously armed doctor and the gun were dragged away. All that fit into her head was that her husband was…

Alive.

Because just then a crying nurse lifted her trembling hands so that they could be seen, revealing disconnected vires, and fastened them again. Soon the machinery came back to life. _Clint_ was alive, barely but still.

The sound that erupted from Laura right there was nothing human as her knees gave out and she slumped to the floor, a hand pressed against her hammering heart and tears pooling into her eyes.

They did almost lose Clint for real. He was extremely weak and his body had been put through too much. But he kept hanging on with all the stubbornness he had, kept clinging to the land of the living. Until in the ridiculously early hours of one Tuesday morning she woke up to him stroking her hair gently, holding her as tightly as he could. There were tears of relief in his eyes. He'd thought that he'd lost her, too, after all. "I had a weird dream", he rasped.

"Me too", she murmured. Then kissed him over and over again. Unaware of her own tears.

Shaking away those chaotic memories Laura sighed, rubbing gentle circles on her stomach.

They got Clint back. But things would never be the same again. His body wouldn't function properly after all the trauma it'd been through. And soon he'd be a father of four. It was time for Hawkeye to retire. Which was why Tony announced that he'd arrange this ridiculous party.

It was the end of an era – and a beginning.

* * *

Inside the music was painfully loud. Tony liked it that way. It distracted him enough to keep him from thinking.

About Clint's departure, and how it was at least partially his fault, no matter what anyone tried to tell him.

About the fact that he'd soon be a dad and at the moment his relationship with Pepper was… testy, at best.

About how things would never be the same again.

"Stop thinking, Tin Can, it doesn't suit you."

Tony actually yelped. Which he would've never, ever admitted to a living soul. It was amusing how quickly he spun around to face Clint. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?"

"Nope", was Clint's deadpan answer. "I'm trying to snap you out of it. All that stressing out is giving you gray hair."

"It's not!" Tony exclaimed, scandalized.

"Yeah, it is." Without a warning Clint's hand was on his hair, grabbing one for evidence. "See?"

Tony winced. "Oh hell. I'm getting old."

"Tony." It was remarkable how well and clearly Clint's voice carried through the noise. Like the order of a high ranking soldier. "The next time I see you… You'd better not look at me like that. Because what happened… It wasn't your fault. And I won't have you wallowing in that guilt for the rest of your life."

Tony sighed heavily. His gaze strayed towards where Steve was talking to Sharon Carter. "Tell Captain Righteous that."

"He's just looking out for his family. Just like you were." There was a thoughtful look on Clint's face. "One day, when he's faced a similar choice… Steve will understand." A stern gaze was aimed at him. "Watch each other's backs, you two. I've got Nat keeping an eye on you both."

"You _are_ trying to give me a heart attack."

Clint grinned in a comfortingly familiar way. As though out of silent agreement they both lifted a glass of non-alcoholic champagne. "Hey, Tin Man? Congratulations. I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I think you'll make a great dad. And at least the poor kid's got Pepper to keep him or her from needing therapy."

Tony couldn't help it. He began to roar with laughter. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Pigeon. And… It's a boy." Pride swelling in his chest, he took a long sip and savored the taste. "Congrats to you, too. Is Laura threatening to castrate you yet?"

"Yup."

They chatted for good twenty more minutes. Both feeling at peace. Because while everything was about to change it wasn't the end.

* * *

Steve was leaving the party early and imagined that no one noticed. That's why he shivered when he found Clint waiting by his motorcycle. The archer shrugged. "You leave every party early. They call me Hawkeye for a reason, you know?"

Steve sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. He couldn't help feeling a bitter brush of defeat. "It's going to be strange without you." It was as good as 'I'll miss you', which would've been too awkward for them both.

"It's gonna be strange for me without you guys, too. But I've almost died about a thousand times. It's time to move on." Clint rolled his eyes. "Stop that frowning, I'm not dying. I'll always be there, whenever you guys need me. Only a call away."

Steve nodded slowly, not quite sure what to say.

"I _am_ planning on retiring peacefully, though, so look after them. Stark included. Especially when you want to beat up his metal ass."

Steve actually found himself smiling at that. Slowly, trying to stall the inevitable a little, he began to put his helmet on and wondered what to say. 'Goodbye' wouldn't have been appropriate because this wasn't a farewell, and he hated saying 'bye'. "Goodnight, Clint", was what he settled for.

Clint seemed to understand. The Hawk gave him a wave, along with a tiny, melancholic smile. "Goodnight, Steve."

* * *

The two had no idea that they were being watched. A woman stood on the other side of the street. Watching them deep in thought with darkened eyes.

Once upon a time she was only eighteen and the wife of Vlad Lutsky. Since then she became Irene Adler, The Woman. Now… Her current name made no difference. She was also the mother of a son who got killed because of her husband's deeds and the IMF. For years and years she dedicated her life on revenge. But now, as she looked at the last person who'd been there…

Perhaps the chain of rage had to end somewhere. Perhaps they both deserved a second chance. Her son… He was a sweet, gentle thing. It was what he would've wanted.

So she didn't fire the gun sitting on the passenger's seat.

Tomorrow she'd go to work and be the boring schoolteacher everyone around her thought she was.

Tonight, just for a few more hours, she'd be someone else. She'd gone home. She'd wash the already dried blood from her hands. Then she'd light a candle for her son.

Or maybe not, because her musings were cut by a text message alert.

' _I have a job for you. Swift and subtle. Interested?_ '

A smile curled her lips.

' _Always._ '

Tonight she'd grieve. Tomorrow she'd be boring. And then she'd start a yet another hunt.

Soon a picture found its way to her phone. Her eyebrow arched. "Well… Isn't this quite the turn-up…"

* * *

Wanda had decided to skip the party. It wasn't out of disrespect, of course. She just didn't feel like facing a yet another person she'd learned to trust walking out of her life.

She was meditating when she felt a presence. Hearing Clint's voice wasn't a surprise. "Is it safe to come in?"

Wanda waited for a long while before nodding.

"Okay." Clint approached and sat to the floor beside her. "I was hoping to see you downstairs. You're missing out on one heck of a cake."

"Parties aren't my thing."

"Parties or partings?" The silence stretched before Clint went on. "I'm not moving to the moon, Wanda. Whenever you call… Whenever you may need me… I'm still there. I'm not abandoning you. And whenever these idiots drive you insane, feel free to come to the Farm for some Barton insanity."

Wanda couldn't stop herself. She hugged him. Only briefly but still. "Thank you. For everything."

"Don't mention it, kid." As though out of nowhere he revealed two slices of cake. "Mind if I hang out here for a bit? Parties aren't my thing, either."

"Knock yourself out, Old Man."

Clint rolled his eyes. Then threw a tiny piece of cake at her. "Very mature."

* * *

Eventually Natasha decided that she needed some fresh air. So she headed to a balcony and lifted her gaze to admire the stars. They were unnaturally bright that night.

"Have you learned any new constellations?" Clint's voice inquired eventually, and she had no idea when he got there.

"Three new ones." Natasha looked towards her friend to discover that he was also looking at the sky. "You?"

"Five."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well. I still lead."

Clint grinned at her with amusement. "I wasn't aware that we had a competition."

"Of course it's a competition." They lingered in their thoughts for a while. "You'll name me the newest brat's godmom, won't you?"

"Who else could it be?" There was a fond look in Clint's eyes. "No one else would be better at keeping our little girl safe."

"You sure?" Natasha wasn't quite able to disguise her excitement. Just this once she decided that she didn't mind. "Nate managed to trick you."

"Sure about the baby's gender or the retirement?"

"Everything."

"Yeah, I'm sure." There was no hesitation on Clint's face. "I've fought for the world long enough. I've got a lot of scars to prove it. It's time to move on."

Natasha mused that for a while. "Maybe I'll do it, too, one day. Retire. A small cabin at a countryside in Paris."

"You'd go crazy in a week."

"In a weekend", Natasha corrected. She felt a grin appearing to her face. "But it's a nice dream."

That kind of a life suited Clint, she could see it from his eyes. But it wasn't made for her. She was a soldier, someone created and trained to fight. This life of battle was the only kind she knew. Someone might've thought it was sad. She'd accepted herself a long time ago.

Dreaming, especially of things that she didn't even really want, was for children. Still… Sometimes, just for a few seconds, she couldn't resist the temptation. Even if it lasted only for a blink of an eye.

"Clint, why is there cake in your hair?"

"Don't ask."

* * *

Bruce definitely wasn't a party animal. Especially since he didn't mix well with alcohol or crowds. So he did his best to stay in the background, hid in the most isolated corner. Of course Clint found him even from there. The archer flopped beside him to the couch with a dramatic groan. "I hate parties."

"This is your party."

"I especially hate my own." A few moments of uncomfortably loud music passed by. "Look… I'm not really good at this whole… 'words of wisdom' crap. So… Bear with me and hear me out." The man went on after gaining his full attention. "You want to leave again, and… I get it. Trust me. But at some point you've gotta stop running away. Hold still for long enough to figure out what it is that you want."

Bruce remained silent, deep in thought, for a long time. Then took a deep breath. "What if it's something I can't have?"

"Trust a guy who's beat a lot of impossibilities in his life." Clint's eyes strayed towards were Laura and Pepper were dancing and laughing, their pregnant bellies touching. The archer's eyes filled with warmth. "There are pretty few things that are really impossible."

Bruce drifted in his thoughts. Then focused on Clint. "Sorry that it took me so long to come back." _That it took you almost dying on us._

"Sorry that I'm going", Clint returned.

They sat in a companionable, understanding silence for about three minutes until Clint got up. "Okay, no rest for the wicked. Just… Do me a favor?"

Bruce looked at his friend with surprise. And some suspicion. "Name it."

Clint smiled at him. "Ask Nat for a dance. She'd never admit it out loud but she still loves dancing."

* * *

Clint said his byes to Pepper with a hug. Nothing more, nothing less. She cried, cursing hormones. He wanted to do the same and wondered what he could blame.

The whole night was turning into a chick flick…

"Look after him", Clint murmured. His hand brushed her stomach affectionately. "Both of them."

"I will." Pepper hugged him just a little tighter. "And you look after yourself."

"And the rest of the family?"

"Yeah, sure." Pepper wiped her eyes. "But we both know that out of the entire Barton clan you're the one who gets into most trouble."

"Must be my superpower."

* * *

An hour or so later the party was officially over. Clint had an arm wrapped tenderly around Laura as they left. Just before opening the car's door for Laura Clint peered over his shoulder once more, looking at the Tower.

Of course he wasn't actually saying goodbye, but in a way this still was the end. And a beginning. Funny how those two mix sometimes.

"Ready to go?" Laura inquired softly.

"Yeah." Clint smiled, even though his eyes stung. "Let's go home."

Others would keep the world safe, now – as from today his only task was to keep _his world_ safe.

* * *

 ** _End_**

* * *

A/N: Yeah. That's right. A happy ending – even with the possibility of 'Civil War' looming in the horizon… And BABIES!

Sooo… Was that any good? At all? A worthy conclusion? PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know.

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking around through this entire long flight! You guys are FANTASTIC. I really hope that you've had a good time – despite all the cliffies… (smirks sheepishly and HUGS)

Awkay, it's high time I get going. Who knows. Maybe I'll see you guys again.

Take care!

* * *

Guest: Painful it was! BUT, I'm overjoyed that you enjoyed, anyway. (BEAMS) I really hope that you'll have a good time with the conclusion!

Massive thank yous for the review!


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